Chaos Plans
by Vorquellyn
Summary: Torchwood/BtVS/Nightside crossover. Ethan Rayne is on the run with a disturbing weapon that brings the Initiative and Torchwood into conflict
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Ethan Rayne and anything else from Buffyverse belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Torchwood, its employees and anything else from the Whoniverse are definitely not my property. The Speaking Gun, Shotgun Suzie and anything else from Nightside belong to Simon R. Green. The only thing here I could even vaguely lay claim to is this particular arrangment of words.

Author's Note: The timeline on this is that it starts directly after episode thirteen of season four of the new Doctor Who, right before Hex and the City and about four years after the last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This story is ignoring all novels, comic books, audio dramas and video games associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Doctor Who and Torchwood. I am an American and if I use the wrong word for something I would appreciate being called on it.

Prologue:

Ethan Rayne looked up at the sky and wished he knew just what was happening. Gone was the familiar sun, replaced by planets he had never seen before. The first time Ethan had walked out of the never ending night of London's secret underbelly his first reaction had been surprise. That had faded into a vague disappointment that he wasn't responsible. Ethan supposed he ought to be more worried about where the normal constellations had gone and why but he couldn't get worked up about it. There were important things to be done. If the world was saved then the world was saved and business would continue as it usually did. If the world ended then there was no point in worrying about it.

Ethan readjusted the package under his arm as he looked around the underground station, trying not to think about what the box contained. One touch was enough for now, the memory of fever damp flesh nearly making Ethan shudder right there. Last night when he had holed up long enough to get some sleep he had almost thought he could hear it breathing through the closed box. Breathing and waiting for him to try to use it again. Ethan wasn't sure how something enclosed in a box and with no face to speak of could glare at him but the Speaking Gun was doing it. After years spent courting the attention of everything from chthonic deities to demonic entities so powerful the mortal plane couldn't encompass them Ethan had learned to pay attention.

He needed out of London. He couldn't give it back and he couldn't keep it. Even after the disaster with Eyghon he had possessed more options. Running from scientists, running from everyone else looking for this _thing_, making sure Ripper and his little pets didn't interfere and trying not to let the dreams overtake him; it was all a bit much. He needed somewhere quiet to hide and rest. He needed someplace with energies he could bind to his will.

A place like Cardiff.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing that belongs to the Buffy verse, Whoniverse or Simon R. Green belongs to me

---

Captain Jack Harkness smiled, enjoying the sunshine of Earth as he walked away from the TARDIS. Martha's hand was warm in his, "You know, I'm not sure about UNIT these days. Maybe there's something else you could be doing." He was continuing his pitch when he was interrupted by Mickey.

"Hey, you two!" Mickey shouted as he jogged to catch up.

Jack groaned. "Thought I got rid of you."

Martha laughed and stopped abruptly. "What's that?"

Jack freed his hand to feel the inside of his greatcoat, pulling out a headset. "Harkness here."

"Jack," Gwen's voice was only slightly tinny. It really was a very good communication device. "The rift is going wild here."

Jack made an apologetic face at Martha and Mickey. "We just traveled-"

"It settled down for fifteen seconds, then quadrupled past its usual activity." Ianto interrupted.

"Feel like taking a trip to see the Hub again?" Jack asked Martha.

"What about me?" Mickey demanded.

"What about you?" Jack mock growled. "Oh, fine. You can come along too."

"Let me call my mum. I need to let her know I'm ok." Martha pulled away, phone in hand.

Mickey watched Captain Jack closely. "Been a long time."

Jack kept smiling. "Longer than you know. Are you interested in a job or just sightseeing?" he quickly changed the subject.

"Either." Mickey shrugged. "I'm looking around."

"It's an emergency and you're both just standing around." Martha noted as she rejoined them.

"Do you have a car here?" Jack asked her. "Because I was grabbed straight from Cardiff." He gestured at his left wrist. "And the Doctor doesn't want me teleporting."

"Can't think why." Martha smirked. "I left my car at my mum's house. She's bringing it."

***

Ethan relaxed in the returned Earth sunshine, chanting softly in Latin. He tensed as a memory of what he was praying to bumped against his conscious memory. Ethan's mouth went dry as the walls of reality grew thin around him. Things his mind couldn't interpret writhed, seethed and seeped around him, puddling and prodding their way towards him. He stopped chanting as he realized that some of them existed in the every day world of sunshine and freshly mowed grass.

He opened his eyes to look around the park. Strange, lumpy men in boiler suits lurched over the bright green grass. Their heads moved in odd jerks as if they were scenting something.

Ethan decided he didn't want to stick around long enough to see what abilities these demons had. He carefully picked up the box containing the Speaking Gun. There was a faint sense of pride that he only shivered when he touched the box.

***

Ianto blessed Tosh's memory again as the pop ups she left behind guided him through the process of filtering all the different energy signatures the rift was throwing off. "According to our equipment we are being bombarded with chronon particles while the rift is abducting people and dumping new visitors all over Cardiff." Ianto tapped on a couple more keys. "Oh and there's a nuclear explosion directly over the Millennium Center."

Gwen leaned over Ianto's shoulder. "Is there any chance that any of those are real?"

"Any of them or none of them." Ianto scowled at the computer screen. "Probably not the nuclear explosion."

Gwen brought up the CCTV footage of Roald Dahl Plass. "Ohhhh. Call Jack. The weevils are out in daylight." She watched in stunned silence as a pack of weevils snarled, displaying their sharp teeth. She hurried to switch the view. Janet was pounding against the walls of her cell, moaning and growling. She snapped at the air like a dog with a thorn in its paw. As Gwen flicked from camera to camera her stomach sank into her boots. "There's so many." And there were only two of them.

Ianto looked up. "All the police radio frequencies are filled with static."

Gwen was still staring at her screen when a puzzled frown puckered the skin between her eyebrows. "They're going back to the sewers."

Ianto looked at the display of Rift activity. "Everything's going quiet again."

The police radio scanner burst into life with reports of homicides and animal attacks.

Ianto and Gwen watched it warily. "Jack could be right. It could be from moving as a planet from one solar system to another."

Gwen hauled on her jacket. "We can't take that risk."

***

Ethan picked the lock on a hotel room and slid into the comforting gloom. The faint scent of mold tickled his nose and he gave the bed a dubious look. The door closed with a rattle and Ethan locked it before closing the curtains. Carefully he opened the box to look again at the Speaking Gun. It had a tooth for a trigger and sinews for its firing mechanism. The soft susurration of its breath made the hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stand on end. With no visible brain or sensory organs it was alive and malevolent. Sweat glistened on its barrel as the red meat of it pulsed ever so slightly.

The hotel room door splintered as a black boot with steel caps on the toes kicked through. A tall blonde woman strode into the room, cold blue eyes dispassionately checking for threats. Her black leathers creaked as she unholstered her shotgun and aimed it at Ethan.

An instinct that wasn't Ethan's made him grab the Speaking Gun and point it at the bounty hunter. The Speaking Gun's mind hammered against Ethan's. It hated Ethan. It hated the hotel. It hated Cardiff. It hated the whole world and everything in it. But most of all it hated whatever fool had created it in the first place.

Ethan tried to slow his breathing. Firearms weren't his usual method of spreading chaos. He knew he needed to aim this one very carefully. It fought him for control, its madness nearly overwhelming his mental defenses.

"Put the gun down." The woman's cold voice rang in Ethan's ears. Her glacial calm didn't flicker as she eyed the Speaking Gun.

Trying to answer her broke Ethan's concentration. The Gun roared as it spoke a Word and undid a load bearing wall.

***

Martha was fiddling with the radio when her attention was caught by a rising cloud of dust. Without checking with Jack, Martha pulled hard on the steering wheel to turn towards the commotion. There was a part of her that would never get used to seeing people get hurt. She focused her life on trying to prevent death and injury as much as treating it.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Mickey complained. He craned his neck to see out the window.

Jack waited for Martha to pull to a stop. "That dump was old."

"I'm a doctor. I need to help them." Martha nodded to the ambulances arriving. "Who knows? I might learn something about what happened."

Jack nodded and stood across the street from the wrecked hotel. "What do you think?" he asked Mickey. Jack was eager to learn what Mickey had picked up while he was in the parallel universe. From the sounds of it there had been quite a lot of fighting. Experience like that could be useful to Torchwood. Jack's mind shied away from thinking about Owen and Tosh instead trying on the thought that Torchwood was far too understaffed to continue this way.

"I'd have to get a closer look." Mickey admitted. "I can't think why anyone would want to blow up a hotel like this. Maybe for the insurance money."

Jack nodded and tried to contact Gwen. The only answer he received was an abrupt, "Weevil hunting," before she hung up on him. "We'll hack into their files and look at the police reports later." He said to himself as much as to Mickey.

Not only were they severely understaffed but they were dangerously close to creating indispensable positions. Toshiko had come as close as he could allow to that. It might be decades before he could locate another technician of Tosh's caliber much less find a way to recruit that person. Without her their capacity to deal with the Hub and the various artifacts they found was down to the level of toddlers by comparison. Owen as a person could never be replaced but it was necessary to replace Doctor Harper. Not just replace but everyone needed to know how to do the basics in case Marth- their new doc was ever taken out of commission.

"What's that?" Mickey pointed at a figure not so much scurrying as loping away.

Jack set aside his plans to rebuild Torchwood and concentrated on the matter at hand. He and Mickey took off running after what seemed to be (from the few glimpses he got between frightened pedestrians) a tall woman in black motorcycle leathers wearing two bandoliers of ammunition and a shotgun holstered across her back.

The woman ducked and wove through foot traffic like a fish slipping upstream. After about a kilometer she lost them in the crowd. As the two men trudged back to Martha's car they ribbed each other about who had lost the armed woman.

Martha rejoined them shortly after they got back. "I heard one of the rescue workers talking. He said that it's as if one of the walls just vanished. Poof."

Jack gave the ruin a thoughtful look. "Who was in there? Anyone unexpected?"

"A few couples and one old man with no ID." Martha recited tiredly.

"Let's get to the Hub. We can organize from there." Jack looked at Mickey. "Unless you have a better suggestion."

"No, no. You're doing good, Captain." Mickey said with just a hint of the usual joking derision. He looked at the wreckage. "Real good."

***

Gwen and Ianto stumbled into the Hub, bone tired. Ianto had eased into the chair in front of Tosh's old workstation before he realized Jack was back. He smiled a fatigued greeting at his boss while Gwen bustled around in her routine for getting ready to go home. Ianto turned the word home over in his mind before deciding he would much rather crash at the Hub.

Jack cleared his throat. "Doctor Martha Jones and Mickey Smith are in the Archives. For an indefinite period of time they'll be helping us out." Jack hadn't asked how Martha was going to work that out with her UNIT bosses but he hoped she would join full time. He could trust her and right now that was indescribably rare.

"Mickey Smith?" Since Martha had filled in for Owen during his... adjustment to unlife Gwen was not surprised to find Martha filling in for him now that he was dead and gone.

"He's someone I used to know. He knows enough about fighting Cybermen and Daleks to make him useful." Jack smiled insincerely. "It beats recruiting them off the street."

Ianto had gone pale at the mention of Cybermen. "Where would he learn that?" he asked carefully.

"In an alternate reality." Jack didn't meet Ianto's eyes. "The one they came from."

Ianto nodded, part of him still screaming in the fiery wreckage of Canary Wharf.

"Go home. Give your love to Rhys." Jack instructed Gwen. "Tomorrow I want you to go interview some possible witnesses."

Gwen nodded and wished everyone good night. Her big smile and tutting about how nervous Rhys would be were a little forced as she tried to give Ianto a sympathetic look.

Ianto stared at the floor until Gwen was gone. He monitored Tosh's station for a few minutes before he felt like he had his emotions under good enough control to look at Jack. He stood uncertainly for a beat before the two of them moved towards Jack's bedroom in tandem.

***

Ethan woke to see a beautiful brunette woman with big green eyes sitting next to his hospital bed. Her full lips turned up in a sympathetic smile when she realized he was awake. Her bangs could use a decent trim but what he could see of the shape of her breasts looked promising.

"I'm Gwen Williams. I'd like to ask you a few questions." The woman said in a friendly Welsh accent.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the device, characters or alien species.

Ethan Rayne blinked. Fires that burned upwards with flocks of birds with ribbed wings circling them flashed before his mental eye. He opened his eyes gain to look at the woman. Gwen. "Where am I?"

Gwen named a hospital Ethan didn't recognize. "Do you remember what happened?"

Ethan tried to shake his head, making a golem made of bricks start tap dancing behind his eyes. "No," the lie left him in a soft rush.

"What's your name?" Gwen asked, her voice warm.

Ethan mumbled, trying to buy time for his head to clear. A strange woman was sitting in his hospital room. She wasn't yelling at him so he doubted she knew him. That left hospital, legal or... "Police?"

"I'm with Torchwood. I'm sorry, did you say Heath?" Gwen said, standing abruptly as the heart monitor made a noise like a dying cat.

Ethan began chanting, eyes screwed shut. He searched for a place with breathable air. Everything else could be dealt with when he got there. Scarlet tentacles reached out for him followed by electric blue sparks shot across his vision.

"Heath! Can you hear me Heath?" Gwen stepped back when Ethan's body vanished.

***

Martha spilled hot coffee down the front of her borrowed shirt when the Rift alarms started screaming. She fumbled in her pocket for some facial tissue in between tapping on the keyboard to look at the CCTV footage. Weevils swarmed the streets. They weren't attacking and Martha was almost certain they were in pain.

Ianto hurried in. "This is exactly what it did yesterday." He pulled up Tosh's monitoring program. "Except it's more intense."

"Where's Jack?" Martha asked. "I need to check back in with my superiors. I promised the Doctor I'd do something."

"He went to go check on something." Ianto frowned at the screen. "Mickey went with him. Gwen is interviewing a potential witness."

Martha nodded. "I should be back by tomorrow."

Ianto looked up. "Is there a point where we should come looking for you?"

"If I don't call in- Three days?" Martha stared thoughtfully into space. "It might take me awhile to convince them. Three days. If it takes longer I'll call."

"Call if you need help." Ianto kept frowning.

"I'm sorry. I know you need help handling this. The Osterhagen Key- It's important."

"This might be some sort of fluctuation in Rift activity because the planet was moved." He looked up as the strange readings died away. "So far the Earth is still here. I understand your priorities."

"Thank you."

***

Walking into the shop was like walking into a war zone. Racks of clothing had been tossed across the room, some hard enough to dent the walls. There were holes in the walls from shotgun blasts and halfway into the shop a blood trail started.

"She threw him like he was nothing." The shop girl's eyes were white all the way around. "Just wham."

"Could you tell us what she looked like?" Jack impatiently asked the brunette.

"How can anyone do that? Was she on drugs?" The girl chewed on a nail. "Oh. Tall. Blonde? Lots of black. Really, really big gun."

"And she was chasing someone?" Mickey asked. He ignored Jack's eye roll at the blood spatter.

"Yes." The shop girl blinked. "He was tall."

Jack sighed. Some days he hated eyewitnesses. "Did you notice anything else about him?"

"He was cute." The girl shrugged.

Jack smiled at her. "Call my number if you think of anything else." He wasn't going to Retcon her because what she had seen was a possibly drug addled woman hunting a tall, cute man. Her own mind was editing out anything dangerous before Jack had a chance to learn it. He handed her his number and didn't let his reassuring smile fade until he'd turned his back.

"What do you think it is?" Mickey asked under his breath.

"Could be some sort of shape shifter." Jack murmured. "What do you think of the shot pattern?"

Mickey walked over to the wall and studied it carefully. "I don't see any sign it ain't from Earth. Looks like a regular twelve gauge. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking it's the same woman we chased away form the collapsed hotel." Jack smiled. "As much as I'd like to believe she was afraid of us I'm thinking she was more concerned with catching whoever this is." His blue eyes traced the blood pattern again.

"You don't think she was running from your come ons?" Mickey smirked.

"Quiet. Let's see if we can find out what the police did with the security footage." Jack turned on his heel as he left, making his coat billow dramatically.

***

Ethan stepped carefully across a shifting plain of colors his human mind wasn't meant to understand. Feeling very small he closed his eyes and tried to find his way back home. Instead he found the Rift.

Ethan moaned pitiably as his back slammed against the curb. He sprawled half in the road and half out of it. Ethan's inner ear began screaming about the abruptness of the change in gravity and orientation. He guessed from past experience that he likely had a concussion and a couple of bruised ribs.

When he was done losing what felt like every bite of food he'd eaten in the past week Ethan tried to stand. A passing car splashed him with dirty water as he hobbled backwards to a place where he was less likely to get hit. Ethan nearly collapsed again before he had traveled even a block. Ignoring the woman who called him a bum, Ethan considered ringing Ripper. It had to be less painful than falling back into Torchwood's clutches.

***

The Hub was quiet and Ianto had to admit he liked it that way. Myfanwy was sleeping, Gwen was reading some files he'd pulled from the archive and the rest of the team hadn't come back yet. A man vanishing at will when Gwen identified herself as Torchwood sounded less dangerous than most of what they faced or maybe just less aggressive. What he really didn't like was that the time coincided with the instruments in the Hub acting up.

Ianto sat and quietly flicked through the CCTV cameras to give his brain a rest between attempts to overlay the data from one Rift burst over the other. He paused as a man scrambling away along the curb caught his eye. Ianto zoomed in. There was something familiar about the old man. Ianto tried imagining him with a different haircut. The current one was shaggy, gray and stringy with sweat and dirty water. The lines of stress and pain spider webbing over the old man's face distracted Ianto but the eyes rang bells. The old man's dark eyes seemed to lock on Ianto through the camera.

The door rolling aside to let Jack and Mickey in seemed unusually loud. "Hey, where is everyone?" Jack called, swaggering in.

"Here," Gwen popped up with a smile while Ianto merely grunted and hit record.

"We have one psycho on the loose with a twelve gauge doing some hunting." Mickey said. "What do you have?"

"A man who can make himself disappear. Everyone else was completely normal." Gwen answered. "I've been reading and thinking. Maybe he's a time traveler."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Disappeared?" Jack asked. "This is the guy form the hotel?"

Gwen nodded solemnly. "As soon as I said I was Torchwood he got scared, he started chanting and he vanished."

"Some sort of voice activated device or something?" Mickey asked.

"Maybe," Jack frowned. "Why do you think he's a time traveler?"

"He reminds me a bit of John and he recognized Torchwood." Gwen answered. "Most people who recognize Torchwood recognize our authority. The ones who run are usually criminals or people who have dealt with us before Canary Wharf." Gwen looked over her shoulder at Ianto. "The ones who run away by disappearing have been time travelers."

"Fair point." Jack looked at Ianto. The shorter man still wasn't paying attention to the exchange. "Do you have anything, Ianto?" He maneuvered to look over Ianto's shoulder. "Should I be jealous?"

"I'm trying to think of where I've seen him before." Ianto said distantly.

Gwen moved in for a better look. "That's the man from the hospital."

"When he left there was another one of those energy fluctuations." Ianto rewound the footage. "And when he appeared-" Ianto pressed play, "-there was a fairly normal energy spike."

"He recognized Torchwood and you recognize him. Did he work for Torchwood One?" Jack mused.

"No. I'd remember that. I don't think I ever saw him in person." Ianto shook his head. "I thought you kept track of all the former Torchwood employees after I turned up on your doorstep."

"So did I." Jack grimaced.

Mickey cleared his throat. "A place that conducts weird experiments and a man that can teleport, doesn't sound like an employee to me."

"He was very scared." Gwen nodded.

"Torchwood Four," Ianto said suddenly. "When I was doing research at Canary Wharf we'd get reports from all the other posts to collate data. I saw his dossier. His hair was shorter and he didn't look like a bum." Ianto smiled triumphantly. "He was in Torchwood Four's custody."

"Torchwood Four disappeared years ago." Jack said cautiously. "Why was he there?"

"That... that wasn't in the file I saw." Ianto's smile faded. "The file was only in relation to inter-dimensional travel."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs in Whoniverse, Buffyverse or to Simon R. Green.

Ethan shivered and wrapped his coat more tightly around himself. The damp drizzle trickled down the back of his neck as he looked up at the lead gray clouds. He was so focused on trying to keep his worn shoes out of more puddles that he nearly walked into a young man.

"Oi, watch where you're going." The dark skinned young man frowned.

"Sorry." Ethan affected a drunken slur. "Sorry, mate." He lifted the young man's wallet before staggering away. He hobbled into an alleyway, sagging against a wall for support. He pulled out the wallet and opened it to view the contents. The national identity card belonged to a Mickey Smith, born in London which Ethan could guess from the accent. He pocketed the ID in case... well, just in case. The credit cards he chucked into the dumpster and the cash he pocketed as a matter of course.

The pictures in a wallet were always the most interesting part. The first one he came across was of an older black woman in heavy, dark glasses. Obviously a grandmother either in blood or spirit. The next picture was of Mr. Smith and a young blonde woman. From the way his arm was wrapped around her they were together but the way the woman wasn't looking at him suggested a few things. Third was a picture of Mickey with a baby boy that almost certainly not his. The second to last picture was a candid shot of Mickey, a blonde woman who resembled the young blonde from the second picture (Ethan was guessing mother rather than older sister but she could be an aunt), and a white man about Mickey's age. Finally, there was a picture of Mickey and the same young man sitting on a truck. None of them were marked with names or dates or places. Ethan stuffed them back in the wallet and held it in his hand for a long moment before deciding not to throw it away.

He poked his head back out of the alley and noticed that Mickey Smith was still hanging around. Ethan became suspicious, a sense of impending doom creeping into his gut. Mickey was talking on a blue tooth and hanging around where he'd bumped into Ethan. Ethan pulled the wallet back out and removed the pictures. After a moment he put the pictures with the cash and tossed the wallet into a urine soaked corner.

To know for sure whether Mickey was there for him would require either finding a way to confront Mickey or to run away and hope he noticed if Mickey followed. He supposed that if he went over and bugged Mickey by predicting the end of the world how far the other man ran might tell him something.

But Ethan had never been fond of the straightforward approach. Or the confrontational approach. Not if running or hiding were options. Ethan winced as he went in search of a bar.

***

Jack watched Mickey on CCTV. He watched the old man- Heath? bump into Mickey and disappear into an alley. "Hey, Mickey. Check your pockets."

"He's a pickpocket?" Mickey's tone was half bewilderment and half outrage.

"That's an unusual hobby for someone who can tap into the Rift." Ianto noted.

"Probably difficult finding an address to get a paycheck sent to." Jack smiled. "Ok, stay there to see if he jumps again." He looked up as Gwen entered the Hub. "Any word on that police footage?"

"Someone requisitioned it already." Gwen announced.

"Who?" Jack demanded. "Who else would be interested in Cardiff?"

"I don't know." Gwen gritted her teeth in frustration. "Even Andy couldn't tell me."

A light flashed on a console and Jack hurried over to look at it. "Our busty blonde is making another appearance." The grainy picture showed a woman who looked like the one he and Mickey had chased away from the hotel. He became certain she was the same one when the camera caught her from behind. "Everyone into the SUV!"

***

Ethan had been hoping for a quiet drink. This place was a dive but it was out of the rain and there were potential witnesses who were likely carrying weapons. He wasn't sure how well Torchwood coming in and dragging someone away would be received. It had to be better than his odds on the street. He just needed a little time to come up with a plan.

The moment he sat every twinge and ache rushed in to distract him. He had to pause and hold his breath so he didn't cry out as the bruises on his back made contact with his chair. Keeping a steady voice despite his watering eyes, Ethan ordered his drink. The sticky texture of the bar and the flickering of the light bulbs were strangely comforting. Most comforting was the dim sunlight that slanted in through the filthy window. Filtered through clouds yet real sunlight nonetheless.

Mickey Smith's entrance didn't surprise Ethan. He wondered how long the young man had waited out in the rain before deciding that his quarry might have escaped the back way. It was sloppy of Torchwood to send only one man without backup. Then again, there had been no retaliation for Torchwood Four and Ethan had heard rumors about what happened at the end of Torchwood One. Maybe Torchwood was finally losing its grip.

With that comforting thought Ethan relaxed, accepted his drink and pretended not to watch Mickey. The comforting illusion was shattered when Ethan noticed a little girl. Her appearance said she couldn't be more than twelve years old but her brown eyes told a different story. A pale child in an old fashioned white dress, her chestnut brown hair was pulled back from her face.

Those ancient eyes stared at him out of a child's face, distracting him from the Tarot deck in her hand. She slapped a card down in front of him without asking. "That's you."

The cold finality in her words tied Ethan's stomach in knots. He picked up the card and forced himself to look at it. The man hanging upside down from the cross bore an eerie resemblance to Ethan himself. "The Hanged Man; passivity, in touch with the creative side of things. Do you get many tourists with this trick?" He gingerly tapped the hanged man's face.

"He has no desire to control events around him. That would be you, wouldn't it?" Her strange eyes drilled away any remaining sense of calm Ethan possessed. "He's not part of society, mage, and there's something divine about him. That's why she chose you to find this." The little girl laid out another card.

Ethan held the Tower card very carefully for a moment. The top of the tower looked oddly like the mouth of a gun and the longer he looked the more he could see of the tower's details. What he had first taken to be vines were actually veins, pulsing with malevolent energy over the purple flesh of the tower. Ethan swiftly wetted his mouth with his drink, stomach roiling. "Fine, say I believe in your scam. What do you want?"

"You have a choice to make." The little girl pulled out two more cards. "There are two groups seeking you. Which one you choose will determine many things for me and for others here.

Ethan shuddered. Responsibility. How he hated that word. Looking back into the little girl's eyes he was reminded of why immortality had never been among the things he sought. Pleasure, chaos for the sake of chaos, the ultimate high... Ethan unconsciously scratched at the old acid burn in the crook of his arm. Even in that state he had known that there were worse things than dying.

"Knowledge is power." The little girl's inflection was completely neutral.

"Are you a vampire?" Ethan asked as he flipped the first card over to reveal the King of Swords. The King was a tall brown eyed man in combat fatigues. He held a machine gun and sat on a throne made of the skin and bones of demons. Ethan went rigid as memories of excruciating hours spent trapped underground with no escape assaulted him, crushing the air from his lungs.

"No, merely dead." The girl gave him the ghost of a smile.

The King of Coins was on the face of the other card. A tall, blue eyed man graced a black chair that looked vaguely like the ones beauty salons used to perm hair. Ethan suspected it was nothing as benign as that, the metal that covered the man's head had a sinister look to it. He almost missed that the man was holding some sort of diagnostic tool. "Magic and technology; an interesting duality."

"You will have to side with one or the other eventually." The little girl informed him calmly. "They'll force you."

"Aren't you supposed to tell me whether I'll get what I want? Reach my objectives? Find my true love?" Ethan said sarcastically.

"You know what you're goal is and you know it's impossible. Greater Beings than you have tried to achieve that kind of freedom. It always leads to more trouble." The girl showed a faint hint of disgust as she gathered her cards.

Ethan watched her leave, his mind whirring. He didn't trust her; you could never trust dead things. Closing his eyes and taking another swallow of beer, Ethan scanned the room for Mickey.

***

Jack swung the SUV into another careening turn, attempting to simultaneously listen to Ianto's instructions and Gwen's conversation with Rhys. From the pitch of Gwen's voice she was having another argument with Rhys about what was a reasonable time to get home for dinner. Ianto on the other hand was getting annoyed with Jack.

"Left! I said left!" Ianto scowled at Jack.

"I know a shortcut." Jack smiled disarmingly.

"A shortcut by going the opposite direction." Ianto deadpanned.

A shot rang out, small pieces of metal pinging against the SUV. "You were saying?" Jack corrected his steering. He checked the rear view mirror and saw a smiling blonde bring up her shotgun for another shot. Swerving toward the sidewalk, Jack shouted and slammed on the brakes. The woman threw a grenade towards a cluster of people. The rattle of debris on the roof made him flinch reflexively. "You stay in here!" he ordered Gwen and Ianto. Jack rolled out the door, shoulder bouncing uncomfortable against the pavement. He dimly registered the sound of the car door slamming behind him.

"Hold it everybody!" Jack barked. He turned to the group of men the grenade had been aimed at, noting that they were all fit and between the ages of twenty and forty. And they were all heavily armed. "Whoa, boys and girl. Put it away or we'll have to hunt you down and confiscate it. We can do it too. We're Torchwood." He knew the bullets were coming before they left the gun. Blood welled up from the holes as two of the out-of-uniforms smirked at each other. Jack was still conscious but could no longer hear their commanding officer yell at them.

The world went black and Jack was in the darkness again. Something moved.

***

Ethan was on halfway through his second drink when Mickey lost patience. Ethan had suspected Mickey wouldn't follow instructions but he expected another three or four drinks using Mickey's money. "What do you want?"

"I have mates in trouble." Mickey sat next to Ethan without preamble. "And I'd like my money back."

Sighing, Ethan realized he wasn't up to traveling through the Rift again. He was old and tired and hadn't slept well in weeks. "Here." He passed the cash back to Mickey but not the pictures. "What do you want from me?"

"What are you doing here?" Mickey asked bluntly. "Do you plan to do us any harm?"

"I'm having a drink." Ethan flourished his glass.

"Listen, you look like you could use a place to stay for a night. We have some cells. You've already shown that you can escape anywhere we put you. Why not have a lie down there while I go help my mates."

"You're learning." Ethan smiled.

"You came here with a blonde." Mickey said, hope threading through his voice. "Can you tell me about her?"

"Tall, motorcycle leathers, shotgun, headband made out of the skin of the first man she killed? Stay out of her way. She's trouble." Ethan drained his glass. "You're Torchwood, aren't you?"

"Sort of. I'm thinking it over." Mickey paused. "I can understand not wanting nothing to do with Torchwood. I had a friend told me all about Canary Wharf."

Ethan gave Mickey a withering look. The man looked older and harder than in his pictures. More dangerous. "I wasn't at Canary Wharf." But he had helped make it possible. "I need to be getting back to London."

"Captain Jack says he runs things different from Torchwood One. Help us and we might help you get back where you need to go." Mickey shrugged. "From where I sit you don't have many options."

Tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling, Ethan thought over the best story to tell. Telling anyone the whole truth would be asking to be put out of their misery. "I came here with an artifact. To rest and recuperate before I went on the more difficult part of my journey. Suzie Shooter is a bounty hunter hired most likely to acquire the artifact. She will find whoever has it and retrieve it because she's good and she's not afraid of anything. I need to find who hired her and get it away from them."

"What kind of artifact?" Mickey asked.

"A dangerous one." Ethan admitted. They would be more likely to believe later lies if he honest on this point and they weren't likely to believe that a woman with a gun was sent after something harmless. "It's a holy relic that can be used as a weapon by the right people."

"Ok, I'll bite. Who are the right people?"

"Strong willed. In case you're wondering that doesn't include me." Ethan grimaced.

"You're carrying a weapon you can't use?" Mickey sniffed.

"I did try. I'm not meant to wield it." Ethan shrugged, hiding the thrill of nerves he felt when he thought about what it felt like to hold the Speaking Gun. "It's not like I can give you character references."

"I'd like to take you to Captain Jack." Mickey eyed Ethan warily. "Have you tell your story to him."

Ethan sighed heavily. "Take me to your leader." He eyed the younger man's black windbreaker and jeans. "How did you get involved in this?" he asked as he stood.

"My girlfriend." Mickey said shortly.

***

Ianto launched himself out of the SUV and scrambled forward to where Jack lay temporarily dead. Keeping his head down he dragged Jack's body out of the line of fire. As he did every time Jack died Ianto wondered if maybe this was the last time. Maybe Jack wouldn't come back this time. But as usual the damage from the shotgun undid itself in front of Ianto's eyes and Jack sat up with a wild gasp. Ianto relaxed ever so slightly. "What do you want us to do?"

Jack rubbed an ear as another grenade went off and Ianto had to struggle to hear him over the ringing in his own ears. "Call Martha. See what UNIT knows about these guys. Gwen! Gwen!" Jack rapped his knuckles on the side of their car. "Do you have that tracking device we picked up?"

Gwen nodded an affirmative. "The woman or the men?"

"Men." Jack mouthed back.

Ianto popped his ears and tried to wish the tinnitus away while Gwen pulled out a gun that shot tracking beads. Each one was roughly the size of a watermelon seed and adhered like a burr to fabric. Ianto winced at the added sound of Gwen's gun and the other guns echoing up and down the street.

"We'll track them back to wherever they're holing up. Find out who they are and what they want and make them leave Cardiff." Jack squinted across the street. "The woman is alone but that many people, that heavily armed have got to have support hiding somewhere."

A man screamed for his mother and a morbid curiosity made Ianto look. One of the men was thrashing on the ground, blood slowly spreading from a hole in his side. Ianto scratched the tickle of a water droplet teasing his hairline. He crawled into the passenger side of the SUV and called Martha. He followed orders and hoped that soon enough the killing he saw would be done by monsters.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, deices or settings. I am making no money.

Ethan trailed after Mickey until he finally sat down on the sidewalk and demanded a break. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Yes." Mickey twitched in a way that made his answer mean no.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Do you have someone you can call?" He gestured at the CCTV cameras. "Someone has to be watching us, right?"

"I don't carry a cell phone." Mickey flinched away from a memory. "Or a Bluetooth. You?"

"No. You never know what might be using them too." Ethan shook his head. "I used to have one but keeping up with the admail blockers was more trouble than it was worth."

Mickey snorted. "You have no idea." He checked his pockets and found his spare cash and Ianto's directions. He hoped there was someone at the Hub. Otherwise his plan to have Ethan too tired to pose any real threat was going to be wasted. "Oh, sorry. We were supposed to take a left instead of a right two streets back."

"If a big, black van drives up I'm not getting in." Ethan closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"How about a black SUV?" Mickey asked, humor in his voice.

"I'd heard the head of Torchwood Three had a flair for drama." Ethan shook his head slightly. "Torchwood is bad news as they say."

"Captain Jack's been working to change that." Mickey said. "I wouldn't be working for them if they were-"

"Evil?" Ethan suggested.

"Yeah." Mickey sat next to Ethan on the damp sidewalk. "They're trying to protect people."

"No they're not." Ethan snorted. "Protection would be telling people what's going on. No, what Torchwood has always been about is power and control. Preserving the Empire. Telling people what's really going on would mean letting go."

"So you're what, some kind of freedom fighter or something?" Mickey asked.

"No. I'm very certain I'm not." Ethan snorted. "I'd rather not fight at all and I could care less about freedom."

"What then?" Mickey grunted irritably.

"I did spend about a year as their test subject. I think that gives me a right to judge them." Ethan's smile was bitter as smoke.

"I've been out of touch for a couple years but I've heard about some of what they used to get up to." Mickey looked back at the CCTV camera. "From what I've heard things have changed. People I trust say things have changed."

"What are you trying to sell me on?" Ethan asked wearily.

"You come in and we give you a bunk and food in return for information." Mickey said patiently.

"You think I'm a rat." Ethan didn't even sound hurt.

"Aren't you?"

Ethan laughed. His ribs ached and his head felt like it was going to explode. Concussion followed by drinking was a spectacularly stupid course of action. Ethan stopped and groaned. "I'm more chicken than rat."

The Torchwood SUV pulled up in front of them and Jack rolled down the window. "Are you two sitting here for a reason?"

"My back and knees are screaming bloody murder." Ethan sighed and braced himself to prepare to get fully vertical. "And my head is full of-" Ethan made hand motions to indicate fireworks.

Mickey gave Ethan a keen look. "Do you agree?"

"Yes," Ethan sighed, deflating even as he stood.

"Agree to what?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"We give him a bed and food. He gives us information." Mickey said with a shrug.

"There's a group of heavily armed men. They look like professional soldiers." Jack stared steadily at Ethan. "What can you tell me about them?"

"American?" Ethan asked, blinking hard. "The King of Coins," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" Jack frowned. "Possibly American. They were in civvies. They were following our blonde visitor."

"The blonde is Shotgun Suzie. She's a bounty hunter from Nightside." Ethan said because he suspected that if he didn't give some sort of information he wasn't going to get shelter.

Jack's face went cold and hard and distant. "Nightside."

"Section of London where the sun never shines. The old gods walk the streets and you can sell your soul." Ethan shrugged and winced. "All that shit."

"I know." Jack looked grim for a fraction of a second then smiled. "Nightside huh? I remember that place. They know how to throw a party. Get in."

Gwen and Ianto recoiled from Ethan's scent as he got in the car. "Heath isn't it?" Gwen rallied.

"Heath works." Ethan relaxed into the seat, trying not to let the vibration of the engine get to him.

Mickey got in on Gwen's other side. "I'm not walking back."

Gwen ignored Ianto's smug smile and scooted over. "So Heath, do you have any family?"

"Not really." Ethan was torn between lying so they would leave him alone and worrying about his credibility if he was caught in a lie. "My parents have been gone for some time and I never married." His eyes were again caught by the way she filled out her shirt.

Gwen sighed. "That had to be difficult. Have you been drinking?"

"Just a couple drinks. Takes the edge off." Ethan smiled at her.

Gwen gave him a brittle smile. "I see. Brothers or sisters?" When Ethan shook his head she pressed, "Someone we should call in case there's an emergency?"

Ethan kept shaking his head until a thought occurred to him. "There is an address I can give you but only if you only contact them if I'm dead." He paused briefly. "That was awkward. There's someone who I would want notified in the case of my death but for no other reason."

"An ex?" Jack asked from the front of the car.

"Someone who might sleep easier knowing I'm gone." Ethan rubbed his temples and tried to enjoy the presence of a lovely woman. "Really gone."

"Oh?" Gwen gave him a questioning look. When Ethan didn't respond she pursed her lips. "No friends or extended family? No one at all? That must be very lonely."

A number of different replies suggested themselves to Ethan. Hitting on her would distract her but might backfire later. Making reference to his friends Michael Collins and draft beer had definite drawbacks. The hardest part about not seeming like a flake was the fact that he was a flake. "Not particularly." He had his religion. He'd never needed much else. Not for a long time.

"Oh." Gwen looked uncomfortable.

Jack pulled into the parking garage at a higher than necessary speed. "Everyone out." He turned around to look at Ethan. "We're putting you in a cell. We know you can get out at any time. However, some warning would be good. We aren't going to let you go wandering around the base whenever you feel like it."

Ethan smiled tightly. "No offense taken."

***

Ianto did his best to ignore Mickey and Gwen as they took their new guest down to the cells. He called Martha and reached her voicemail. She might know something about groups of armed men running around Cardiff. After leaving a message requesting that she call him back as soon as she was free he hung up and looked around the Hub for something to do. It was only then that he realized Jack was watching him. "Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

"Are you sure I can't help you out of that suit?" Jack asked with his usual grin.

"Mickey is right. We should move those things out of the way." Ianto nodded at the workbenches. "Anyone or anything we capture goes through there on the way to the cells."

Jack raised his eyebrows and waited.

"Yes, you can." Ianto said finally. He bit down on the questions he wanted to ask but already knew the answers to. Did it hurt when Jack was shot? Was Jack really alright? The answers didn't matter anyway. Ianto desperately wanted to forget the man in the basement, Canary Wharf and Lisa Hallet. Sometimes after a few rounds with Jack he almost could.

***

Jack wandered into the work area of the Hub, restless and bored. He could still feel the drums sometimes, beating away in the back of his mind. The sound of the Master's voice as he watched Jack die in a new, novel and painfully slow way. The feel of mud clotting the back of his throat as he struggled for air again and again and again. It all closed in on Jack when he tried to sleep, blending and blurring into nightmare forms he didn't dare name. The sinking sensation that home was never where he left it filled Jack's gut. He glanced up from his desk at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"We've got the old guy settled down for the night." Mickey announced.

Jack felt a flash of real humor as the realization that the man Mickey considered old wasn't a tenth of Jack's age skittered through his mind. He could feel Harold Saxon's laugh beating in his bones.

"I'm going to crash in autopsy." Mickey gestured over his shoulder. "You need anything else?"

"Have you decided about whether you're taking the job?" Jack asked brightly.

"No. I want to see how you deal with the old guy first." Mickey paused, uncertain how to deal with someone who all joking aside was interested in his skills without comparing him to someone else. He could never measure up to The Doctor who was more than human or Ricky who was dead. "What would I be doing?"

"You'd be our weapons specialist." Jack answered easily. "We haven't had one since the previous one quit." Resignation by suicide. "You'd have to study our weapons list of course. I know that's difficult for you." Jack drawled.

"Right." Mickey snorted. "What's a Rift monitoring station need a weapons specialist for?"

"We need a test dummy for the things that drop through. Emphasis on the dummy." Jack smirked.

"Sure." Mickey rolled his eyes. "I'm going to crash."

Jack waved the young man good night and returned to staring at the paperwork piled up on his desk.

***

Suzie lovingly cradled her shotgun as she holed up outside the warehouse the Initiative was using as its base of operations. Motorcycle leathers creaking, Suzie crept close enough to hear the rumble of their voices. Someone had started a poker game. Her expression didn't flicker despite the disgust and contempt that filled her. She found the sentry and eyed him for a long beat. Shooting him would only alert the people inside so she holstered her gun and pulled one of the knives from her boots.

The squish of the blade as it buried itself in his voice box. A strained gurgle escaped him, red blood dark and glossy in the night. But Suzie didn't notice. She was already moving closer, creeping stealthily forward. She stropped the knife clean against her thigh, sponging into another shadow.

A calm smile lit her face coldly as she contemplated how best to get into the building. Tracking them down once had been hard. As sloppy as they were about letting their guard down before the assignment was done they were professionals about everything else; weapons, location, back trail.

Suzie tossed in one of her remaining grenades.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is the property of the BBC, Mutant Enemy, Simon R. Green, HP Lovecraft, Roger Zelazny or Lucasfilm.

Gwen set a folder down in front of herself as she sat at the table in the interrogation room. The old man in front of her held himself stiffly upright, one arm bracing his ribs. She compared his posture to what she was used to seeing when questioning criminals. At first he evaded better than most but otherwise seemed much like most of the men she had questioned in her career. It was only when she got to the subjects that they most needed answers about that things got interesting. "How much do you know about what's going on in Cardiff?"

"How do you mean that?" Ethan asked her, feeling far too sober.

"How about we start with the Rift." Gwen suggested, watching him carefully.

"Is that what they call it here?" Ethan started to make an inclusive gesture but wound up wincing instead. "This is a place where the walls are thin. Things slide through that don't really belong here. It isn't the only one; Cleveland, Arkham, the Nazca Plains and dozens of others all over the world. If you know what to look for they're usually fairly easy to identify."

"How do you mean?" Gwen wasn't sure why but his offhand description unsettled her. Before she would have been glad to deal with a civilian who wasn't neck deep in denial. Usually those were like Eugene, harmless enthusiasts who occasionally got in the way. She supposed that was why she was uncomfortable. This man was neither an alien nor a civilian nor allied with any organization they had contact with. Realizing she hadn't really heard a word of his answer (something about crime rates, population sizes and property turnover) she moved on to her next question. "We have someone who places you at Torchwood Four. Can you tell us more about that?"

"I was a test subject." Ethan said and stopped.

"Testing what, Heath? Last we saw of Torchwood Four they were in Dublin, now they're gone." Gwen told him.

"Inter dimensional travel. One of the experiments went wrong and the base was moved to the Nightside." Ethan paused hesitantly. "Then we had an uprising and escaped."

"Ask him about Canary Wharf." Jack ordered Gwen through her Bluetooth.

"Can you tell us anything about the battle of Canary Wharf?" Gwen asked dutifully.

"You probably know more than I do. I heard some rumors but nothing I'd take as fact." Ethan gave another aborted shrug.

"What did they hope to gain from his experiment?" Jack pressed and Gwen repeated the question.

"They wanted me to find the Rainbow Run which isn't possible of course." Ethan said dryly. "I can find many things but I haven't been pure enough in heart to find the Rainbow Run since I was in nappies."

She couldn't say why but the hairs on the back of Gwen's neck stood upright. "I don't understand."

Jack cleared his throat on the other end of the line. "I'll explain later. Ask him about any enemies he may have picked up in Nightside."

Ethan gave Gwen the same look a snake gives a bird. "I thought everyone who knew about- Rifts? -knew about the Rainbow Run."

"Redirect him now." Jack said urgently.

"The world isn't what you think it is." Ethan smiled.

"Did you pick up many enemies in Nightside?" Gwen asked hurriedly. Jack and his bloody secrets could wait a few more minutes if it would let her regain some control of the conversation.

"A few small timers here and there. Mostly I kept a low profile especially with the angel wars. Everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop." Ethan fell back into the harmless old man guise.

"How did you get into Torchwood custody?" Gwen didn't need prompting to know to ask that.

"I was deported from America as an illegal alien." Ethan said mildly.

"Heath, what did you do to get deported?" Gwen sighed. That was a weak deflection.

"I was caught by one of the American equivalents to your organization. They held me underground for a time. Torchwood tracked me to them and demanded they hand me over." Ethan met her gaze steadily.

"Mickey says you called the woman who attacked us Shotgun Suzie." Gwen looked over her notes. "How do we stop her?"

"You don't. She'll get her bounty and go back to Nightside." Ethan shifted his weight a little. "She's one of the most famous bounty hunters of Nightside, maybe even the most famous. I'm sure your boss has heard of her."

"Where is Nightside?" Gwen ignored Jack's warning splutter.

"In London."

"In London? Inside London or around-"

"In London." Ethan said like she was being deliberately obtuse.

"What's in it?" Considering that they allowed a bounty hunter to carry a shotgun through the streets it had to be very different form the last time she'd visited London.

"Pretty much anything. The place runs on capitalism. There are refugees from lots of different places and times-"

"Like the Rift?"

Ethan paused and squinted. "The Rift is natural. There are rumors that the Nightside isn't."

"There's a part of London where aliens and time travelers live and they allow people to run around with guns. Why should I believe you?" Gwen asked, feeling rather appalled.

Ethan laughed, the sound pained and bitter. "Which is more likely; that I'm lying or your boss is holding out on you?"

Gwen grunted noncommittally. He definitely had a point there. "Why didn't Torchwood One do anything about it?"

"The Nightside is older than Torchwood and far more profitable." Ethan smiled thinly. "If it ever became Torchwood against the Nightside Torchwood didn't stand a chance even at the height of its power. Even if it had been allowed to get that far."

Squirming, Gwen eyed the old man. "Allowed by who?"

"The usual; business interests, Beings of power, anyone with the power to make money the way things are." Ethan sighed and winced. "Can I go have another lie down? It's been a while since I could sleep without periodically waking to make sure I still had all my fingers."

Gwen paused long enough for Jack to catch on. "One more question," he said in her ear. She imagined him standing right behind her, hand on her shoulder. "What were the side effects of Torchwood's experiments?"

Ethan looked embarrassed for the first time since the interview had started. "I spent four months in the Fortress before I could sleep through the night. I sometimes speak languages that aren't human." He smiled. "I conduct very well now. Sometimes I can gain energy from walking under power lines. It shorts them out but I haven't actually needed anything more than water and vitamin supplements in months."

"They turned him into a walking, talking transformer." Jack said softly. "Incredible. What did they do?"

Gwen's lips tightened as she repeated the question.

"I really wasn't paying much attention by that time." An edge of scorn threaded through Ethan's tone.

"Of course. Sorry, love." Gwen shuffled her papers and reined in her temper.

***

Jack recognized the look on Gwen's face. "You have questions." He folded his arms in front of himself. A large part of him wanted to crack a joke and get her smiling again. Too much seriousness didn't suit Jack. But under the anger was the hurt look he'd seen on her face off and on since he had allowed the fairies to take Jasmine. Not that he could have done anything else. Not that Jasmine would have wanted him to do anything else. He had stopped being a hero in Gwen's eyes that day which was good. Jack wasn't a hero, he was a con artist. His leadership of Torchwood Three was the biggest con of all.

Every so often in the way Gwen looked at him Jack could see that she still wanted the more heroic illusion he presented to the world given half a chance. Gwen wanted him to be able to swoop in and save the day, have all the answers and put things right. Barring that she wanted to do it herself and Jack loved that. He never examined why, navel gazing had never really been one of his hobbies. Just like he never really thought anymore about why he was certain he could charm Gwen out of her pants yet had never made a serious attempt to do so.

"Why didn't you want him talking about the Rainbow Run or whatever it's called?" Gwen demanded angrily. "What are you hiding now?"

"There are some things I don't want to be in Torchwood's records." Jack explained, irritation edging into his voice. "We're here to monitor the Rift, not go chasing after myths."

"I've seen dozens of things that I would have thought were myths before I joined." Gwen protested.

"The Rainbow Run is different. To explain it I'd have to introduce you to physics that won't be invented for another thousand years at least. It's also extremely tempting and dangerous."

Gwen gave the mainframe a pointed look. "Right."

"In a different way. In the hands of the likes of Yvonne Hartman the things we find would be dangerous but of limited use. Messing around with the Rainbow Run is an excellent way to get a lot of people killed in very ugly ways. Besides, I can't use it." Jack said with a small measure of chagrin. "It requires a pure heart, strength, determination and all that."

"But what does it do?" Gwen pressed.

"It lets you travel from one place to another in no time. No earthly barriers will stop whoever is making the Rainbow Run or- That's... huh. I need to back up a bit. There's our world. Not just Earth, Mars, Venus, the solar system, the Milky Way but all the galaxies this world contains. All the hundreds of thousands of species that exist right at this moment. Then there's everything along the timeline, back and forth. All of that is where the Rift pulls from. That on its own is vast beyond imagining." Jack warmed to full exposition mode. "Then there are other worlds with their own versions of Cardiff, Wales, the Rift but just a little different. Torchwood One opened a way into one of those. That's where Mickey spent his last couple years. In those worlds events happen or happened differently than they do here but many things are still recognizable." He noticed Gwen's impatience. "There are stranger worlds where human evolution has taken strange turns or gone extinct but all these worlds still rely on some similarities. The Rainbow Run exists outside that."

Gwen frowned. "How does something that exists outside of this world allow people to travel?" She knew how much Jack enjoyed having an audience.

"Not all worlds work with the same set of physics. What if oxygen were lighter than helium? There are places where that's the case. Obviously, humans can't live in those places. The Rainbow Run... Have you ever held an object like an egg and just marveled at how perfect its shape is, how the texture feels exactly right? From what I've heard the whole thing feels like that; every tree, blade of grass, rock, drop of water, each sound. The words he used were, 'So beautiful it hurt.'"

"That doesn't sound so bad." Gwen frowned again. "What's the catch?"

"For one thing you have to be able to find it. For another you can't stay. For most humans it isn't a place so much as it is a test. In order to get where you're going you have to really need it. Wanting it or knowing that you need it isn't enough." Jack sighed. "And it has a counterpart. There is a place where everything is the opposite that can be used the same way. I don't want that place in Torchwood's records. I don't want future Torchwood operatives even thinking about using it. Most people who try go missing and most of the ones who make it are insane. Someone would eventually get the bright idea to use it to move armies or strike teams to places that would normally be out of our reach." Jack smiled. "And it's not something we ever have to deal with. We have the Rift."

"So if Torchwood Four was looking for this Rainbow Run-"

"Then it's probably best that they're gone." Jack nodded. He glanced at the security camera screen that showed their guest sleeping in one of the cells. He still hadn't explained about the things Outside. That could wait.

Mickey came pounding out of the Archives, talking on his cell phone. "Yeah, give me a sec." He ignored Jack and Gwen. "Where? Oh, here it is." He clicked on the television. Up popped a report about a warehouse fire.

"Gunshots and explosions were reported in this area at about four in the morning. As you can see, they're still pulling bodies out of the wreckage." A carefully made up reporter said. "The cause of the fire appears to be a drum of petrol that was ignited some time in the early morning. Police are looking for-"

Mickey clicked the mute button. "Ianto thinks these are the blokes that you saw in the street."

Jack looked at the body bags and shrugged. "Let's go check it out."

***

Suzie had checked every available corner of the warehouse. What she was looking for wasn't susceptible to fire. She slithered from one rafter to another, ignoring the rescue workers scurrying under her. Suzie was forced to come to the conclusion that the Gun wasn't in the warehouse. Someone had to have left with it before her arrival. She snarled silently. It would go a ways towards explaining the laxness in security.

After leaving via the roof Suzie took a shallow breath of less smoky air. A ways away from the fire she shimmied down to the ground with barely a thump. Since most of the men had still been holed up in the warehouse it was likely that whichever of them had left with the Gun had been meaning to return. She turned back to look at where the conflagration had died down. If it were her then her next act would be to contact her employer. In his case that would be reporting in to his superiors.

All of them had the look of soldiers and spoke with American accents. That had to make them stand out a bit if she could just figure out whom to ask which questions. Maybe the American in the greatcoat had some idea.

***

Ianto Jones kept his eyes on the table. If he looked up he'd be too tempted to punch someone deserving. Deserving or not he wasn't going to be punching people in the middle of a cheerful little cafe. He liked it here. Making a scene might get him kicked out permanently.

"We would ask your sister but the last time we went there she made her opinions about us very plain." Her cool voice continued obliviously.

"I see." Ianto said, his face neutral but his shoulders tightening. "The last time we saw your lot was at mum's funeral." He folded his napkin very neatly, thinking about his sister's aggressively normal family. Had it really been that long since he'd seen her?

"We're shorthanded at the moment." She sighed. "We'll understand if you'd rather not. Many of the rogues are wary about this being a trap."

Ianto's blue eyes burned into hers. "Now why would they think that? Just because you've tried to murder them all at one time or another."

"Regardless of our past differences we need to pull together to combat this threat." Her expression of regret was sincere.

"But I'm not rogue." Ianto said quietly, gripping his coffee cup with a white knuckled hand. "One has to have been part of the Family in order to be rogue." He mimicked.

"That's true." She allowed softly. "You'll never be one of us. However, we have discovered that there is a place for outsiders. Our librarian has only one apprentice. The librarian himself spent the last few years in a psychiatric facility to hide from us. Hundreds of us have died or abandoned their posts. We're desperate." She paused for a few seconds to see if Ianto would say anything. "The Matriarch isn't in charge anymore."

Ianto jerked. Rhi wouldn't care and he shouldn't care. But he did. "Who took over?"

"One of her grandsons. I don't believe you've ever met him." Her blue eyes gleamed with hope for an instant. "He was a field agent so he knows something about the outside world. He's too busy to meet with you unless you're seriously considering joining. Your skills and your time with Torchwood would make you a valuable asset."

Ianto's expression held bitter humor. An asset. He shouldn't really expect to be more than that by this point. "I'll consider it," the words felt like they were dragged out of his mouth. "Don't bother my sister. She has her own life now and doesn't need you mucking it up."

"We have to save the world." The sun glinted off her blond hair. "No one else can."

"Mum said you were like that." Ianto almost smiled.

"We could give you a torc." Penny Drood's smile was seductive.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: All is the property of Simon R. Green, the BBC, Mutant Enemy, Lucasfilm, Roger Zelazny or HP Lovecraft. I am making no profit.

The feel of being freshly showered, having clean clothes and generally not smelling like he'd just rolled out of a gutter felt so much like luxury that at first Ethan barely cared why they weren't headed for the interrogation room. He looked around the Sci-Fi base portion of the building with more interest now that he no longer felt quite so much like whimpering and putting his head between his knees. It was impressive, no doubt about it. He was nearly yanked off balance when he paused to look all the way up. "What are those glowing towers?"

"No idea." Mickey said as he determinedly marched Ethan towards the autopsy area.

Ethan sniffed the air. There was a burned smell under the scent of coolant. He saw Jack standing next to a stark metal rail. "I have to admit this is very awe inspiring."

Jack smiled easily. "I want you to tell me what you see down there." He pointed over the railing.

As Mickey released Ethan and went to go find something to do that did not involve autopsies. Ethan leaned against the cool metal, feeling it through his shirt as his brain took a moment to understand what his eyes were telling him. On the autopsy table was a mostly burned cadaver. In some places the meat and fat had bubbled away to reveal blackened bits of bone. Ethan swallowed his gorge. "Long pig. Crispy style."

"That man attacked me in broad daylight and in full view of the public yesterday." Jack's smile didn't waver. "Four more of his buddies are in those drawers." Jack pointed past an attractive woman in a white lab coat who Ethan hadn't seen before to a set of stainless steel morgue storage units. "There was a fire in a warehouse this morning." His expression settled into a look of far too polite amusement that Ethan had learned to associate with sudden bouts of unearned violence being turned his direction. "The police found an arsenal and these dead men were cooked. They showed up around the same time you did."

"You're implying that I have something to do with them." Ethan said tiredly. "Am I supposed to recognize someone who's lost more than half his face?"

"Maybe not him personally." Jack put his hands on his hips and turned to survey the autopsy room. "Someone like you would know which organizations are after him. Take a guess."

"If there's any who haven't been completely burnt you could check for drugs." Ethan suggested.

"They look too healthy for drug addicts." The new woman said. She held up a mostly untouched hand. "Look at his nails."

The tightening of the skin around Ethan's eyes was the only sign of just how nauseous her casual manhandling made him. "The group that held me before Torchwood was dosing their soldiers with some kind of designer steroid." During his time in Nevada they had still been playing with the dosage. The mood fluctuations in the soldiers were a dead give away. The Initiative might have perfected it by now but Ethan doubted it. It was the kind of organization where everyone was always looking to perfect their personnel and weapons rather than simply improve them.

"What's this group called?" Jack's penetrating stare burned the side of Ethan's face but he kept looking at the lovely, dark haired doctor.

"The Initiative." Ethan said quietly.

Jack laughed. "You were caught by a group that calls themselves the Initiative."

Ethan rolled his eyes and swallowed his pride. "What they call themselves isn't my fault. If those aren't Initiative then they're from one of the Nightside gangs, militias, security details or some other variety of heavily armed nutter they grow there." Ethan turned to eye Jack's greatcoat and braces. "You'd probably know more about those than I can tell you."

"You're the one who's been living there. I only visit." Jack grinned at Ethan. "I like it that way. Living there... I'd never leave." He gave Martha an appreciative look. "You might like it there, Martha."

"Mm," Martha gave Jack a look. "Heavily armed men who hide in warehouses? I got enough of that working with UNIT." She went back to swabbing under the corpse's fingernails.

"There's more than that." Ethan's smile was a shade away from malicious. "A little while ago there was an invasion of angels."

"Robot angels? Those were in the everyday London." Martha said, beginning the process of switching bodies.

"Those were robot Santas." Jack corrected. "And that's not what Ethan here meant. I have contacts there."

"Are they still there?" Ethan quietly mocked.

"Some of them." Jack answered. "Some of them are pillars of salt, a few were crushed by rubble and one was skinned alive."

"I heard the Time Tower crucified one of the creatures." Ethan made an exaggerated shuddering motion.

Jack went stock still at the mention of the Time Tower. He directed a brilliant smile at Martha. "Angels who believe they're from Heaven and Hell."

"They might be." Ethan said. "They aren't really from this world."

"No they aren't." Jack shook his head.

"You can't prove a negative." Ethan shot back, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I've been dead. There is no afterlife." Jack stated flatly, all humor draining from his face. "There's nothing."

"For you." Ethan shrugged, mentally giving thanks for painkillers. "It might be part of the deal you made."

"One, what deal? Two, everyone we've asked has said the same thing." Jack's voice had turned cold and deadly serious.

Ethan looked at Martha and saw that the woman was keeping her head down and taking samples. "When you said you'd been dead I assumed you weren't talking about a near death experience. People who go all the way need help from a higher power to get back. It's not difficult to reason out."

"There was no deal." Jack's voice didn't change.

"Whatever you say." Ethan said quickly. He was intimately familiar with people not wanting to face their pasts.

***

"Where've you been?" Jack demanded, watching Ianto's distracted expression. When Ianto hefted a bag of Chinese take out Jack relaxed. "Meeting in ten minutes. I tried to call you."

"I was driving." Ianto smiled at Jack. "I got your favorite."

Jack shook his head and went up to the meeting room. The whoosh of the sliding glass doors helped him find the mindset for the meeting. He wasn't very good at being suspicious. It was one of the reasons he could never pull off a long con despite being an excellent liar. He'd mistaken Rose for a Time Agent, he'd missed it when Ianto had installed a Cyberman in the basement, he'd allowed Alice Guppy to get close enough to capture him and the list of mistakes went on. He shoved those thoughts away but they still ate at him. He was a leader and for that he needed confidence. Luckily, confidence was the one thing Jack rarely ran out of.

The faces changed but Torchwood continued on. Jack beamed at Martha. Gorgeous, bright and a former companion of the Doctor; she was what Torchwood needed right now. "Good to have you back."

"Thank you." Martha smiled brightly back. "Everything's taken care of and I should be back here for good."

"Good. Glad to have you on the team." Jack nodded to Mickey. His gaze then fell on Gwen who was watching him attentively. He winked at her and smirked when she repressed a smile. Jack waited for Ianto to get done parceling out Chinese food cartons then began the briefing. "What we know so far is that a group of men with enough weapons to liberate a small country were found dead in a burning warehouse. Martha Jones is running some chemical tests."

"Heath suggested that these men might be on a designer steroid." Martha stood and brought up an image of a DNA strand. "What I've found is nonhuman DNA spliced in here and here." Parts of the display glowed as she spoke. "The database here does not have these particular genes on record for any known species. That doesn't mean much. They could belong to a subset of one of the types of aliens we've seen and there are thousands we haven't even seen."

"Were they bit by something?" Gwen asked, frowning.

"Maybe." Martha said cautiously. "I can't really tell how it got there. It could be done with a virus or any number of different ways. The bodies aren't in good enough shape for me to be able to check for injection sites." Martha pulled up another image. "The change in genes allowed them to produce these chemicals. They also increased some of the other natural hormone levels. The combination could be something like that produced by a steroid. Increased strength and endurance-" Martha broke off to chuckle at the expression on Jack's face. "Unfortunately, it also looks like it would cause severe mood swings. I'm not sure what the other symptoms would be but it looks like some of the alien hormones strengthen the heart muscle."

"So this is The Initiative then." Jack said, retaking the stage. "Their killer is a bounty hunter named Suzie Shooter, also known as Shotgun Suzie. We are not engaging her."

"We're just going to let this bloody madwoman walk the streets?" Gwen spluttered.

"If we engage her it'll only hurt more people." Jack said quickly. "We let her find whatever it is, and then she goes back to Nightside. We engage her there."

"She's only one woman." Mickey protested. "There she's on her home turf."

"Rose Tyler is only one woman too." Jack paused. That was crueler than he meant to be. "I've run into Suzie before. She doesn't have friends and she has plenty of enemies."

Mickey shook his head.

"I'm familiar with Nightside. We can-"

"What, kill her?" Gwen demanded interrupted Jack.

"We can't contain her. Your friends at the police station wouldn't know how to deal with her. Handing her to them would end with several of them dead. Killing her is the only way to stop her. They tell horror stories about her hunts. No one has taken her down yet because she takes them down first. She's paranoid and goes everywhere heavily armed. She had an opportunity to restock when she took out five enhanced soldiers. We do not have the resources in Cardiff and you've seen how willing she was to get into a firefight." Jack pressed. He wasn't going to lose this new team over something so stupid and avoidable.

"What about the people in Nightside?" Gwen asked, "They'd be in the same danger, wouldn't they?"

"That's different." Jack clenched his teeth. "There are no innocents in Nightside."

***

Ianto went into the work are to tidy up. It had been months since he'd had to try so hard to pretend things were normal. Leaving Torchwood would mean Retcon and that was unacceptable. Staying with Torchwood would mean a short, violent life unless he died doing something foolish like falling down a flight of stairs. He didn't expect more than a few more years. He still had trouble breathing regularly when he thought of Owen and Tosh.

A torc would change things drastically. Torcs were the secret of the Drood family's power. They made their bearers effectively invisible, invincible and anonymous. Ianto wasn't able to imagine wanting to be part of the family that came with the torcs. Most of them never saw the real world; only field reports and history lessons. From the stories his mother had told him and Rhi the handful of field agents were watched as closely as prize greyhounds. To see Penny away from the Hall meant things were very serious.

If the Drood family was really so desperate that they would accept rogues and strangers then things were worse than bad. As much as Ianto hated the Droods on behalf of his parents they were a force of order. Weakness from the Droods would result in a power vacuum and a struggle that Torchwood wouldn't have a hope of containing.

But Ianto could help. He rolled the thought around in his mind, tasting it. Until Penny had made her pitch Ianto wouldn't have thought he'd be tempted. The Droods were bogeymen who had made his parents' lives miserable and by extension Rhi and Ianto. Going to work for them would mean leaving Torchwood. An out from Torchwood that might not require Retcon. That was the idea that was tempting.

Ianto began picking up pizza boxes and bagging them. He was used to carefully planning his every step; leaving home, rescuing Lisa and every little point in between. If he was going to quit he was going to have to plan how to do it just as well. If he moved too quickly he would be in danger of making Jack or Gwen think he was being coerced. Gwen might be the more difficult to convince but Jack would probably be less likely to let Ianto go. Maybe.

As he moved on to scrubbing Tosh's desk Ianto tried not to think about Captain Jack Harkness.

"You were quiet at the meeting." Jack noted from behind Ianto.

Ianto sighed and turned around. "I didn't have anything to contribute."

"You don't like it that Martha's here." Jack said in a tone that wouldn't carry.

"She reminds me of Adeola. She worked for Torchwood One." That wasn't the whole of it but it wasn't a small part of it either. Ianto looked around for something more to do with his hands.

"They were cousins." Jack said. "She's an excellent doctor and we need one. You were just hinting at replacing Owen last week."

"I know!" Ianto said more harshly than he'd intended. He was losing control and he hated that. "I know. Are you the only one allowed to run from your past?" Jack's hurt look made him feel guilty but he pressed on. "When John came here you wanted him gone. He reminded you of the past you said. Martha reminds me of my past. I'm not asking you to get rid of her. Can't you just... give me time?" The best defense was a good offense.

"Ok." Jack said slowly. "Martha's talking to UNIT to see what they know about the Initiative. There's a list of names of corporations in a folder in my office. It's labeled The Authority. Dig around and find out everything about them that you can."

Ianto nodded and went up to Jack's office to do his job. Jack had emotions but to Ianto they were alien. Maybe it was his life span, maybe it was coming from a different century, maybe even a different millennium or maybe it was bouncing through time as a Time Agent. The amount of culture shock one mind could take might have its limits. In some ways the reason didn't matter, the result was the same.

The manila folder was old and a bit worn but it contained a list of names that Ianto had run into before while doing a budget spreadsheet. These were current and important men. He went down to a computer and began researching. It was what he was good at. It was what he was good for.

***

Shotgun Suzie trailed after the couple. They were both tall, brunette, well muscled, carried themselves like they had military training and had American accents. It would be a strange coincidence if they had nothing to do with the five in the warehouse and she was sure she recognized the man from her chase through the clothes shop. When they turned down the alley Suzie was suspicious. They were far too well trained to make a simple mistake or to miss that she was tailing them. She waited for a few minutes and peeked around the corner. They were waiting. Suzie unholstered her shotgun and went around the corner, keeping it aimed at them. "Hand it over and we won't have a problem. My client just wants the gun. He said nothing about you."

"We need it." The woman said, a hint of desperation in her voice. That was the only sign of her stress, her hands were steady.

"Just let us use it and we'll bring it back." The man said with the same tension. "Scout's honor."

"My client wants it back and he's paid me a lot of money to get it so hand it over." Suzie said levelly.

"We don't have it with us." The man said quickly. "We hid it. You can't find it without us and you can't torture it out of us."

"What makes you so sure?" Suzie asked coldly. "I love a challenge."

"We got your attention because we want to talk to you." The woman said, almost soothingly. "That gun can destroy anything and we have something that needs destroying. We're trying to save the world. We don't have much time left and you killed our support team. Just let us do our jobs and we'll let you do yours."

"How stupid do you think I am?" Suzie demanded.

"Listen, you killed one of my friends." The man said angrily. "We found something around Chernobyl. We need to destroy it. I'm trying to be nice but we don't have time for sweet talk."

"You want me to let you take the gun to Russia and then let you bring it back. Assuming I buy your story how do you plan to get it back here after you're done with it?" Suzie barely blinked when they drew their weapons.

"We can't guarantee that. All we can say is that if we don't try you could end up dead too." The woman frowned. "We don't want this to get worse than it already is. We know your reputation, we know what you are."

"Sam..." The man seemed upset and a little confused.

"Be realistic, Riley." Sam snapped. "We saw what she was able to do back at the warehouse. What kind of woman could lift those crates high enough to be stacked like that? Graham didn't do it."

"How could Giles miss her? She's practically in his back yard." Riley argued back.

"What I am?" Suzie asked, her collected mask cracking into a snarl. "I'm not a fool. I'd have to go all the way to Russia to check out your story."

"You could follow us there." Sam suggested, her wide set exotic eyes full of hate. "If we're lying you could take the gun from us there as easily as you could here."

"You shipped it there." Suzie's eyes narrowed.

Riley nodded. "It's out of Wales now. You killed the people who were going to help us. Will you take their place? We're going to have to go to London and see if we can pick up some volunteers but we'll pay you."

"I could torture the address out of you and go to Russia to get it." Suzie said with a shrug.

"No you couldn't." Sam said with a bitter, triumphant smile. "We're infected by the Loathly Ones."

"You brought soul eaters here?" Suzie trained her gun on Sam's face.

"We have no choice." Riley said urgently. "We need to destroy the hive before we go. Please help us. If you don't the Hungry Ones will come."

Suzie lowered her shotgun but didn't put it back in its holster. "How much will I be paid?"


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not my property. No profit is being made nor offense intended.

The image was blurred slightly but still easily identifiable. A bipedal figure of shining gold stood in the wreckage of a tank. The bright blue sky and waves of golden sand spread out into the horizon marred only by curls of black smoke rising from sand that had been charred into glass. Dead soldiers lay around, their heads and limbs torn from their bodies. The bright crimson crescents sprayed across the sand in wide, arterial arcs.

This was the legacy of the Droods; blood and violence on a massive scale. Ianto's mother said that the Droods all believed their manipulation and violence were in defense of the world. But she had stumbled across a piece of information no field agent was supposed to have. To the Drood way of thinking to believe it was treason. They maintained their control on their field agents through omission and disinformation. Or at least that was how it used to be. If the overhaul was as substantial as Penny said-

Ianto brought up a different window as Mickey entered the room. An idea bloomed in Ianto's mind. It was a cowardly idea yet very attractive. "I'm going to be leaving town for a few days." He told Mickey. "Maybe a week or two. Something came up and I'd rather not argue about it with Jack or Gwen."

Mickey made a face. "Can't blame you for that."

"No, it's not that." Ianto said hastily. "I'm going to ask for time off and if I'm out too long I'd like someone to have an idea where to look." He scribbled down the phone number Penny had given him. "If I'm gone longer than two weeks ask here."

Cautiously accepting the slip of paper, Mickey folded it and put it in his pocket. "What do you want me to tell them?"

"Oh I'll say I'm taking a mental health break." Ianto looked down.

Mickey nodded. "I've been meaning to ask about vacation time and sick leave."

"It's a wonderful job." Ianto said honestly.

"No vacation or sick leave." Mickey eyed him.

"You ask for time off and you'll usually get it." Ianto explained. "Gwen took two weeks for her honeymoon. Sick leave you'll need to be checked for alien infection so sick leave happens on base. We have rooms downstairs."

Mickey made a face. "When did you take vacation?"

"I haven't really." Ianto said quietly. "There's always one thing or another." He hadn't dared to leave Lisa alone and then work had become his reason for living. "We went on a mission to the Brecon Beacons once. We were nearly eaten by cannibalistic hill folk."

"Really?" Mickey laughed. "It is a great job, isn't it?"

"The best." Ianto smiled.

***

Suzie felt more than a little uneasy on the car ride to London. She was used to weird. She was used to violent and gory. She was not used to way Sam and Riley's features twisted and distorted when she saw them from the corner of her eye. The subtle wrongness frayed at Suzie's temper. She wanted something to shoot at.

The van they were using pulled to a stop in front of a large, old house with imposing gables. In front of the house a gaggle of teenage girls were chatting easily. Suzie looked questioningly at Sam and Riley. "Here? A girls' school?"

Riley laughed. "They're more than just girls."

Sam got out of the car first, stretching. Her skin rippled at the nape of her neck.

Suzie and Riley followed quickly. After giving her shotgun an extra pat for reassurance Suzie noted that Riley had taken the lead. The girls stopped talking when they noticed Riley. It didn't take them very long at all to start sizing the three visitors up. Suzie wasn't familiar with the normal behavior of thirteen year old girls but she couldn't miss the way that they loosened their stances. Weight on the balls of their feet, bent knees, shoulders back and hands empty at their sides. Suzie instinctively began reaching for her shotgun before she stopped herself.

"I'm here to see Mr. Giles." Riley said as calmly as if the girls weren't obviously planning how to take him down.

"Why?" A girl with bright pink hair demanded.

"I only want to discuss it with him." Riley said firmly.

"You're wrong." A dark haired girl frowned. "You're just... not right."

"That's what we want to talk to him about." Sam said quietly. "We think he can help us."

"Hi, I'm Vi." A young woman appeared behind the girls. "Mr. Giles is teaching Sumerian right now." The girls parted like a curtain. "You can wait this way." She didn't bat an eye at Suzie's arsenal.

Thinking about what kind of girls' school would have courses in Sumerian, Suzie examined the knickknacks decorating the room. The bookcases were full of small statues from a variety of ancient cultures. Every continent was represented. A quick scan of the spines showed the usual books that one would expect in a house trying to pass itself off as a school. The literary classics were interspersed with scientific texts on an equally wide variety of subjects.

"Mr. Giles will see you now," A short blond man said after nearly a half hour had passed.

The man behind the desk was not at all what Suzie had expected. He was milder somehow. She had been picturing someone more like Riley would be in twenty years. The look he gave Vi when she entered the room was stern but not hard. Suzie's eyes slid off him to study the room. At first glance it looked much the same as the previous room. She wasn't very familiar with tomes of eldritch lore or artifacts of power but she would have to be blind to miss that those were what filled the room.

"I wasn't expecting to see you." Mr. Giles said mildly.

"We're trying to take out a hive of Loathly Ones." Riley told him without preamble. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't big. Our support is gone and we don't have time to train more people."

"Loathly Ones." Mr. Giles pulled out a large leather bound book. "You're sure?"

"Very." Sam said wryly.

Mr. Giles opened the book to a woodcut of a tentacled monster. "Soul eaters. They infect a new host and alter him or her to support the embryonic Loathly One. They're like the Matsutake mushroom. They're all part of the same entity." He flipped the page. "Introduced to this dimension sometime between World War I and the Cold War by the Droods for unknown purposes." He looked up from the page. "We found a hive in Brazil three months ago. Five of the girls we sent died and two came back infected. All told we have twelve casualties. The infection is spread by proximity and their numbers have been growing almost exponentially during the last two years."

"This one is near Chernobyl." Riley had fallen into a stance very much like parade rest.

"I am not asking what your unit was doing in Russia so please don't tell me." Giles polished his glasses. "We think they're getting ready for an offensive but since they can appear in almost any location no matter how remote tracking them has been difficult."

"It's about the towers." Riley said confidently. "They're some kind of machine."

Suzie restlessly shifted, stroking the butt of her shotgun.

"Please don't do that in here." Mr. Giles frowned and put his glasses back on.

"Sorry." Suzie said without inflection.

Mr. Giles stiffened at her accent. "Have you encountered the Loathly Ones yourself?" At her silence he sighed. "The Loathly Ones alter not just their hosts. The environment around them changes to match their home. Gravity fluctuates. If there's a pattern to it we have yet to discover it. Sometimes people pass through the area and are perfectly fine but once a hive has established itself the ordinary people who go there come away with radiation burns."

"Sunburns." Riley supplied.

"Yes," Giles nodded absently. "Once the infection takes over the host it loses all sense of self preservation. There are towns where every man, woman and child have literally worked their hands down to the bone." He looked at Suzie and a concerned frown grew between his eyebrows.

"That's just Shotgun Suzie. We're paying her." Sam shrugged.

"And they're going to lead me to my bounty." Suzie said glacially.

"We were hoping that the Speaking Gun would allow us to destroy the tower." Riley said before Giles could ask Suzie anything.

The concerned frown deepened. "It might, it might not. The Loathly Ones are not of this world and the Speaking Gun is. You know the legend behind it?"

"Yeah, but who believes that?" Sam asked.

"I've used it. I believe it." Suzie said firmly.

"You've wielded it?" Giles focused his attention on her. She felt like he was actually seeing her for the first time. "Was it as... unpleasant as the records say?"

"More." Suzie's blank expression didn't flicker.

"I see." Giles scanned his bookshelf and pulled out a book that looked to Suzie like it might be in Aramaic. "And it actually spoke?"

"You could call it that." Sam and Riley watched Suzie with the quiet energy of soldiers listening to a briefing.

Vi looked at Giles with curious gray eyes and an expression of fond exasperation. "For those of us who haven't heard the legend...?"

"God spoke the Word and the Word was God." Riley recited. "The Gun- The echoes of the Word- Mystical mumbo jumbo- The Gun speaks the Word that created an object backwards; undoing its existence from the universe."

"Riley's abbreviated version is more or less what the Watcher's Council's accounts say." Giles paused. "The Gun is older than humanity. It easily dates back to when demons populated the Earth."

"What he means is that while he thinks there may be a grain of truth in the legend it's too old for any story about it to be accurate." Vi interpreted.

"Especially the ones that link the Gun with a Biblical myth known as Lilith." Giles nodded. He looked at his three visitors and didn't seem to find what he was looking for. He sighed and polished his glasses again. "Vi is our most senior slayer in residence. If you're able to wait two days we can get a few more."

"We might not have two days." Sam said softly.

"Why?" Giles's tone suggested that there had better be a good reason or he would do distressing things to Sam's anatomy.

"We're infected." Riley said tightly.

Giles put his glasses back on. "Vi is in charge, not you. I'm going to send Xander after you. When he reaches you he takes over. If you are not able to work with that you don't get our help." Riley made a noise like he'd been hit. "If you do not accept our help we will send our own people to take care of it." Giles suddenly looked very old and very tired. "Willow and Andrew have been working on a way to slow the infection. Slayers have a higher resistance than most." His mouth tightened. "We're still running out of patients."

Riley swallowed audibly. "Is-?"

"She's fine." Giles said quickly. "So far as I know. She's in Tokyo easing the fears of one of the girls' parents."

"Yes, sir." Riley visibly relaxed.

"I'll go pick a couple of the older girls." Vi stood.

"The three of you should go see Willow." Giles nodded to Vi. "The pair of you know you're infected and you've been exposed."

Sam and Riley stood stiffly and nodded while Suzie shifted to stroke the butt of her gun.

"Of course I can't force you." Giles said, willing to pretend it wasn't worth making a fuss over. "But you'll need to stay away from the girls."

"Understood." Suzie nodded. "I'll go sleep in the van."

***

Ethan scratched the back of his neck and looked across the interrogation table at Jack. "So you really plan to go all the way to Nightside and take on Shotgun Suzie. Full marks for nerve. I'm wondering about brains."

Jack flashed a disarming smile. "I've been doing this for longer than you've been alive."

"Not really addressing the point." Ethan smirked. "Your car; it's big."

"It is." Jack preened.

"How well defended is it?"

Jack pulled back. "What? Oh. Nightside traffic. No, I wouldn't choose to drive there. We'll take a carriage."

"Does your team know that?"

"Something I've been meaning to ask you. How did you get here?" Jack leaned back into Ethan's personal space.

"I go to a place... not like the Rainbow Run. Just not here." Ethan shrugged.

"That has to take a lot of energy. One thing I've learned is that there is a rule to the universe. It's been said many ways. There ain't no such thing as a free lunch. Everybody farts." Jack smiled again. "Every living thing in the universe needs energy in for energy expended. Even life that is so different as to be almost unrecognizable as life needs energy. That's why perpetual motion machines are too good to be true."

"As wonderful as it is to sit here and listen to your wonderful voice," Ethan's eyes filled with mockery, "don't you have better things to be doing?"

Jack smiled confidently. "In one of my previous jobs I was a con artist. I know the tricks. Make the mark feel like he has to prove himself to you. Get him too busy talking about himself and his interests to ask you questions. So. What were you doing during the angel war?"

"Questions from unexpected angles." Ethan nodded. "Very good."

"Just answer the question." Ice edged Jack's tone.

"Or what?" Ethan sighed. "That's another of the rules. Don't make threats you can't carry out."

"I didn't threaten you." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Charm and intimidation. You want information out of me. Any time someone has something you want there are three ways to get it; charm, intimidation and bargaining. You're tried charm and I can see you edging towards intimidation." Ethan sat back, conspicuously relaxed.

"To bargain I need to know what you want." Jack noted. "And you're deflecting the discussion again. Why don't you want to tell me what you were doing during the angel war?"

"If I give you any specific information-"

Jack reached across the table and grabbed Ethan's wrist, twisting it painfully. "Just tell me."

"Ah, there we go." Ethan gritted his teeth. "I spent it hiding in the deepest, darkest hole I could find."

"And where was that, Heath?" Jack leaned close to Ethan, his breath raising the hairs on the back of Ethan's neck.

"Street of Gods." Ethan grunted.

After releasing Ethan, Jack pulled away. "I'm curious, do you enjoy that? No judgment."

"Here's a bargain; information for information. Your turn." Ethan gently massaged his wrist.

"What do you want to know?" Jack stood and put his hands on his hips.

"Where are you from?" Ethan asked.

"Where am I from? Not who am I. Not how did a guy like me end up running a place like this. Not my family medical history." Jack smirked.

"No." Ethan shook his head. "I want to understand a couple things. Know how to talk to you. Not go on a date with you. That cologne is way too strong." He made a face.

"It's not cologne. I'm from the Boeshane Peninsula." Jack said. "You want something more specific then you need to tell me where exactly on the Street of Gods you found salvation."

"Janus." Ethan breathed out. "Eyghon. They all pale compared to her. Not that she's actually a she but she isn't male either." He laughed bitterly, pressing a hand against his ribs. "I can't say her name. She forbids it. Most people who discuss it call it the Serpent but that won't help you much. So I'll give you an answer to a question you don't know to ask. You're the second real person I've met. I think the first was the one who moved Torchwood Four. And here's a freebie. I think you're too real to move on to the afterlife."

Jack went whiter than a sheet. "But other people have described the same thing I have."

"Where were you?" Ethan opened his eyes and looked up at Jack Harkness's handsome face. "Did they ever describe it that way when you weren't around?"

"So the Serpent is your God." Jack said without his usual energy.

"In a manner of speaking. It would be truer to say that I am one of the Serpent's priests."

"Truer but not the truth." Jack asked sharply.

"All stories are true." Ethan stated flatly.

"Every hero has a villain. Every God has a Satan." Jack looked questioningly at Ethan. "Or if you're Hindi or Obeah or Sk'til a complex net of checks and balances. No one claims to be the undisputed master of the universe. No one with any serious and sane followers anyway."

"The Serpent has the Unicorn. But neither of them need us humans. We're figments and shadows of their battles." Ethan shifted in his chair. "As a boy I was forced to read Greek philosophers. One of them was Plato and his cave allegory. We're the shadows of the puppets on the cave wall. We are so far from the Reality of the universe that to them we are no more notice than most humans give to the bacteria in the air we breathe. You might be a puppet or you might be one of the men chained into watching the puppet show. I doubt you have the power to be a puppeteer and you certainly aren't one of the people who has stood in the light of a higher reality."

Jack paced in front of Ethan. "So none of this matters?"

"It matters to me. It matters to you. As much as the direct disciples of the Serpent and the Unicorn are loathe to admit it this matters to them." Ethan licked his chapped lips. "There is a world where Merlin Satanspawn embraced his father's heritage and the Arthurian knights of Camelot plunged the world into the darkest age you can imagine. It mattered to the people living there."

"That makes a lot more sense than I thought it would." Jack admitted.

"What were you expecting, shrimp?" Ethan shot back.

Jack gave him a puzzled look and resumed pacing. "I know that you know that people generally believe information they have to work for more than information they get for free."

"My suggestion? Armor up the SUV, give it some defenses that pack a real punch and I can get you to Nightside with your own transportation and equipment." Ethan smiled.

"What's the catch?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"When was the last time you went on a six hour road trip to nowhere with your team?"


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own no part of anything here that is recognizable.

Author's Note: Many, many thanks to Paradox, my beta, for her patience with the many false starts, revisions and complete rewrites it took to get this chapter out.

Dirt, dark and bitter, gagged Jack as he watched Ianto do... something. Jack had never actually figured out everything that Ianto did. He made his way down to the center of the Hub and waited for Ianto reach him.

"I'd like to have two weeks off." Ianto said stiffly before Jack could get a word out.

"Really?" Jack smiled to hide his surprise. "We were going to go to Nightside tomorrow. There's this place called Divas! I wanted to show you."

Ianto sighed and gave Jack a sick smile. "I really need the time off. I'm sorry."

Jack flinched at the last two words. "Are you able to help arm the SUV at least?"

"Arm the SUV?" Ianto looked incredulously at Jack. "What for?"

"The traffic in Nightside is a bit wild. Dog eat dog wild." Jack's charming smile took on an edge. "We could use your help."

"No you don't." Ianto said quietly. "Gwen and Mickey are better with guns, you have a native guide and Martha is a doctor. What do you need me for in a place like that?" Irritation rose in Ianto's throat. "I've been listening to Ethan talk about that place. What am I supposed to do when my PDA gets possessed or the SUV's computer gets invaded?"

"You're resourceful." Jack shrugged, teeth glinting whitely. "We'll figure it out like we always do." His mind skittered away from thoughts of Alice Guppy, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato and everyone in between.

"No," Ianto shook his head slowly.

"Fine," Jack's expression darkened as quickly as a light snapping off.

***

Ethan touched the gleaming black surface of the SUV just to see the guns pop out again. "Are you sure you don't want to add my biometrics to the secure list?" The cold blue barrel nearest Ethan twitched slightly in time with him.

"Positive," Jack bit out, throwing a duffel in the back of the SUV. "Get in."

"Touchy touchy." Ethan climbed in behind the driver's seat, rolling his eyes. "Who pissed in your cornflakes?"

Gwen hopped into the shotgun seat and readjusted it for her height. Ethan didn't miss the look of satisfaction that crossed her face as she settled into the seat.

Jack's smile was made of sharpened glass as he wrenched open the door and thumped behind the wheel of the SUV. Ethan covered his ears a moment before Jack brought heel of his palm crashing against the horn. The sound that resulted made Ethan's teeth itch as his bones vibrated. The second blast was shorter but still made Ethan regret Mickey's suggestion for refitting the horn and alarm systems.

"Coming!" Martha's voice bounced out of one of the Archive rooms.

Jack glared in Martha's general direction. "The sooner we leave the sooner you can get back to that fiancée of yours!"

"Oh, is that what this is about?" Ethan nodded. "You thought he was going to wait around until you got bored."

"You don't know anything about it." Jack turned his glare to the rear view mirror.

"Your kind always gets bored." Ethan felt secure in thinking that being temporarily indispensable would protect him.

"Oi!" Gwen turned around. "Stop it the both of you. I mean it, Jack."

Mickey's bag hit Ethan's feet hard enough to bruise. "What'd I miss?" Mickey swung in behind Gwen.

"The boss is having a tiff with his secretary." Ethan said at the same time Gwen said, "Don't ask."

Wincing as Jack hit the horn again, Mickey frowned. "Jack's serious about him? Serious enough to have an actual couple fight?"

"He thinks he's serious." Ethan leaned back and closed his eyes.

"I said stop!" Gwen glared.

Ethan held up his hands in mock surrender at the same time Martha arrived with a full backpack.

"Move over," Martha gestured. Mickey sighed and unbuckled himself to scoot into the middle seat. "Now I'm ready."

"What took you so long?" Jack demanded, peeling out of the lot before Martha had closed the door.

"I had to double check the vacuum seals on the-" Martha started.

"I don't want to hear it." Jack turned a corner harder than necessary.

Ethan shook his head and stared out the window. He decided to start with the traffic. It would give Captain Harkness something to do.

The first addition was a shiny silver car that wasn't quite a 1970 Chevy. It turned a corner into traffic with perfect manners. Ethan smiled as he realized no one was paying attention to it. He reached into the possibilities and the buildings grew darker and closer together.

"Where am I going, Heath?" Jack asked sharply.

"Head towards London." Ethan said quietly. He thickened the cloud cover before changing the sky to night. That change left him a little winded. "You might want to stock up on petrol first." He belatedly checked to make sure the currency was still the same.

"I don't recognize this part of Cardiff." Gwen peered out at the dark landscape. A car with an unusually blocky frame zipped past.

Ethan waited in the car while Gwen bought five extra gallons of petrol and put them in the back. He itched to get moving. Looking up at the sky through a break in the clouds he realized just how badly when he saw that while he had succeeded in changing the sky the stars were the wrong color.

Gwen shut her door firmly, frowning and scrambling to get her safety belt fastened before Jack hit traffic. "The man in the station had the strangest tattoos."

Tuning out the chatter, Ethan focused on small changes that should get him closer to the Nightside. Since the Nightside wasn't actually part of London things were both easier and more difficult. The Nightside had a distinctive texture that was hard to mistake for anything else but it also was surrounded by a void like a castle with a moat. The trains were allowed through the moat but the truce wouldn't hold for the SUV. It was like the brain puzzle so often posed to children; how do you make a circle with a dot in the center without ever lifting your pencil? You have to fold the paper.

But every time Ethan could feel the Nightside getting close he was pushed away. Not harshly but like someone shut a door just before he reached it. Over and over the possibilities slid away from the Nightside. He tried to circle back. The moon was important. He had to get the moon right. If he could set the moon then everything else should fall into place. If he could focus hard enough-

The slap that made his ears ring came as a complete surprise. He only realized he'd closed his eyes when he opened them to glare at Gwen. "What was that for?"

Gwen wiped her hand on her trouser leg. "What's what? You looked to be having a fit."

"Well I wasn't." Ethan wiped his sleeve over his face, surprised to notice that he was covered in sweat. The view out the windscreen captured his complete attention. The buildings were crumbling into nothingness, abandoned to the elements for decades. "That's not good."

"I don't want to hear that." Jack's voice was brittle in the unnatural stillness.

Nothing moved. Nothing grew. Ethan was pretty sure there was no wind because it would have knocked over most of the hulking ruins. He shuddered. He was so close to the Nightside he could taste it in the air yet this place was as different from the Nightside as anything Ethan could have dreamt up. The Nightside was alive; thrashing in agony and filled with sickness but above all full of motion and blood. This desiccated place was so long dead it counted as extinct.

"Just a mo." Ethan muttered. He thought of reaching into the possibilities with both hands and grabbing and yanking and grasping and pulling and-

Something gave. Ethan opened the door to be ill and found himself staring into row upon row of graves. Fog swirled slowly between them and a cold wind raised the hairs on the back of Ethan's neck. Tombs and mausoleums stretched from horizon to horizon in any direction he looked. Turning the air blue, Ethan began looking for the door out.

Jack pressed down the accelerator as he followed Ethan's instructions. Tasteless marble and granite monstrosities hurled past the windows and dark tire tracks scarred the greenery behind them but Ethan could feel the change in the air. The Guardian was awake. The scent of mold and old earth and stale air penetrated the SUV. He wasn't sure which one of them started screaming first but when he looked behind them he could see the tidal wave of dirt rushing towards them.

Then they were out of the cemetery and driving down the road in front of a funeral home.

"What was that?" Jack asked, his voice ripping into the stunned silence as he slammed on the brakes.

"When was the last time you came to the Nightside, Jack?" Ethan tried for a lighthearted tone even as his voice betrayed him by cracking.

"It's been a few years. Even so, I know that that wasn't the Nightside." Jack's glare lashed at Ethan. There wasn't even the pretense of a smile.

"A few years ago there was an uprising of sorts." Ethan kept his eyes on the road.

"Of sorts?" Gwen asked, her pupils returning to normal as she calmed.

"And the Authority decided it would be best if the dead were kept safe and... unmolested." Ethan shifted in his seat, painfully aware of the look of horror Mickey was giving him and even more uncomfortably aware of the lack of surprise from Jack. "So all the bodies are kept in another dimension and guarded so that they don't get up and walk around again. It's the only business the Authority won't leave up to the private sector."

"This is the Nightside?" Jack asked, expression neutral.

"Yes. If you continue down this road you'll be back in the thick of it." Ethan nodded. "This is the Necropolis and the Street of Gods is-"

"We're not going to the Street of Gods." Jack's smile floated back into place, as nasty as before.

"Then where?" Ethan asked cautiously.

"The oldest pub in the world."

***

From the moment Suzie left the girls' school she felt like something was watching her. Putting her back against her employers' car, she turned to watch the house. She could feel it staring at her like it knew what she was. An accusation hung in the air, taunting Suzie. She pulled her gun free and cradled it against her chest. A girl of about nine gave her a funny look through the front window but she barely noticed through the wave of memories that rocked her.

She noted the reappearance of the Finns with a deep sense of relief that never made it to her face. She simply nodded and put her gun away; focusing on the task at hand instead of the one she couldn't change. Behind the soldiers was a group of women about ten years younger than Suzie. She couldn't bring herself to acknowledge them with more than a flicker of her attention. Besides, a glance was all she needed to know everything necessary to know about the group dynamic.

Vi didn't trust the Finns anymore than Suzie did and the other three women looked to her for direction. Even the sullen one with the blue bangs. The way they handled their bags suggested that their strength was in the same range as Suzie's so they might be as monstrous as Suzie. She would have to keep an eye on them.

"Mr. Giles said the plane would be ready to leave in four hours and it takes two hours to get everything on board." Vi's dark auburn hair was braided away from her face in a style that made her look five years older. "The flamethrower needs a lot of fuel. Burning, stabbing, and we have some holy water just in case." Vi smiled. "Xander's been briefed. You won't have a problem following his orders? Most of Buffy's exes do."

"Xander and I have always got along just fine." Riley said, looking a little taken aback.

"Hmm, interesting." Vi's smile grew. "I guess that says something."

"About me and Buffy?" Riley had the completely confused look of someone trying to make sense of a sudden gravity shift.

"No, about Xander." Vi winked at Sam.

Riley shook his head in bemusement. "We'll follow you. Are you using an airport or an airstrip?"

"Private airstrip hidden in a rural area to the west." Vi looked at the rusty van the Finns had used to reach London and wrinkled her nose in disdain. "You guys would be better off loading your equipment into our van and riding there with us. I'm assuming that heap wasn't chosen for sentimental reasons."

Sam fixed Vi with a skeptical look. "And leave us dependent on you for transportation."

"The airstrip was hidden by the Devonshire Coven. It's simpler to just ride with us. Willow boosted the space in the back. It can hold everything we need and more."

"That doesn't change the fact that we'd be entirely at your disposal." Riley pointed out.

"I've been briefed on who the pair of you are. I've been briefed on who she is. I know what the pair of you are carrying." Vi said almost too quietly for Suzie to hear.

"All the more reason to keep us as separate from you as possible." Riley said in a tone that was blindingly out of character even to someone who had known him for as short a period of time as Suzie had. She could picture Riley Finn in many places where he might be threatening. To an ally halfway through a mission was not one of them. The look he gave Sam when she put a hand on his arm was scalding. "It wants you," he growled. "It's getting stronger and it wants you."

"I'm not new at this." Vi glared up at Riley. "I was fourteen when Sunnydale collapsed. I've been fighting this war ever since then and I've never needed drugs to do it."

Suzie made an impatient sound. This was why she hated working with others; they never played nicely and if they weren't fighting for territory then they were grandstanding for the troops. She was an expert bounty hunter. Dealing with violent expressions of jealousy had become mundane early on, certainly enough so that she could recognize it coming a long way off. This was not that so it was either for her benefit or the girls'. Suzie hoped it wasn't hers. She was bored.

Riley observed Suzie without looking at her. "Fine. We'll ride to the airstrip with you but we get separate vehicles once we hit the ground in Russia."

"That's up to you and your contacts." Vi responded.

***

The sunlight glinted off of Penny's pale blond hair. Ianto appreciated the effect but felt it was undermined by the touch of self consciousness in her pose. Pose was the correct word. She was standing so that her cool white outfit was perfectly framed by the doorway of the building she was waiting in front of.

"Was that your friends I saw peeling out of here a few minutes ago?" Penny asked casually.

"Yes." Ianto said shortly. "I'd like to take you up on your offer." He felt the lump of his cell phone in his pocket. If necessary he could call Rhi to come bail him out. That thought steadied him as it usually did. There was nothing bad enough to make him call his sister for help.

"We won't tell you all our secrets of course." Penny said as she led him down a small side street to a nondescript car that was likely outfitted with more extras than a stack of DVDs. "You'll need to prove yourself to us first."

"Of course." Ianto got in the car next to Penny after putting his luggage behind in the backseat. "But I will need to know something to make an informed decision, won't I?"

"Perhaps." Penny smiled faintly. "What do you want to know?"

"I learned a few things working in London. I'm sure you've read up on that so I won't go into detail." Ianto looked out the window at the buildings flashing past. "I need to know who's in charge."

"That would be Harry Drood." Penny said without any change in inflection. "Backing him is the Inner Circle which includes myself and the Serjent-at-Arms."

"I checked one of Torchwood One's old security networks." Ianto said quietly. "You went silent for some months last year."

"Yes. There were some problems internally. We have taken care of those." The delicate skin around Penny's eyes tightened.

Ianto was reminded that everyone in the Hall was family. Maybe not in the way he thought of it or anyone else he knew thought of it but family nonetheless. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Penny's mouth hardened. "We lost them years ago. Since then the Matriarch and her Council have been forced into the backseat which I'm sure pleases you. Eddie made sure of that."

"Maybe you should try starting at the beginning." Ianto suggested. "Which one is Eddie?"

"That's not important since he and his girlfriend took off and left us to pick up the pieces." Penny said in a low tone. "Before leaving he removed the Matriarch and created the new Inner Circle. You should feel fortunate you were not there that day. Since then, to help with morale and learning the skills we need we have been allowing rogues to come in out of the cold and recruiting outsiders. You're more respectable than most of the outsiders even with your Torchwood contacts."

"You said you want me to help in the library." Ianto reminded her.

"Harry feels we have enough people teaching and our librarian is having... difficulty adjusting." Penny said softly. "You're an outsider but you know more about being Family than some of the rogues."

"What did he do, read from the Necrono-"

"Don't say it!" Penny said sharply. "He-"

"If I'm going to be working with him then telling me the truth would be a good idea, wouldn't it?" Ianto interjected.

"I wasn't-" Penny looked at Ianto. "Yes, I was. He spent eight years in a mental hospital. Even if he went in sane he didn't come out that way." The rest of the ride went much the same way. Penny would not discuss why the family had turned itself inside out or who the factions were (of course there were factions, any group of people that large had factions), or what fight they were currently engaged in.

By the time they had rolled up the winding, green lane to the gates of the Hall Ianto had a working understanding of what his trial period would be like. No sleep and less rest for zero thanks. He was old enough to have his own room and he would be shown a route to take from that room to the library. He was to stay out of anything that looked like it might keep secrets, especially the pocket dimensions that existed here and there throughout the Hall. The Head Librarian would tell him which sections of the library he could look at and if he came across something he couldn't identify, it would be wise not to read it for his own safety.

As soon as the car began up the drive towards the Hall itself Ianto's attention was captured by the grounds. He had thought that living in the Hub would have made him immune to fantastic headquarters. It wasn't that the Hall was more impressive than the Hub; it was more that the Hall was such a completely different kind of impressive. The Hub was all high tech metal grating and organic cybernetics; the Hall was a mixture of magic and high tech. Griffins gamboled on the front lawn while robotic guns tracked the car's progress up the drive. Ianto spotted a building near the edge that was falling apart. He nearly asked Penny what it was for and why it was being allowed to fall apart but he held his tongue. Curiosity was not a virtue among the Droods.

He exited the car and slung his duffel over his shoulder after waiting for Penny's nod. The second Drood he saw was an imposing middle aged man. "Good afternoon." Ianto smiled cheerfully. Now would probably be a good time to start hiding behind that hard working facade that had fooled Ja- Torchwood Three for so long.

"Hand over your weapons." The man said in a monotone.

"The Serjent-at-Arms is the only one allowed to be armed inside the Hall." Penny stated without gloating.

Ianto shrugged and opened his bag to remove the gun he'd smuggled in it. "I didn't really think that was going to work."

The Serjent-at-Arms didn't dignify that with a reply. "He carries no other weapons."

"Really?" Penny gave him a curious look for the first time.

"Like I could sneak more than one." Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Very well." Penny led Ianto into a drafty stone hall. She didn't even glance at the priceless art that lined the corridor. "Your room is in this wing. You are expected to remain here until and unless you choose to become one of us."

"Who are we fighting? We're always fighting someone." Ianto asked as she opened the door to a small, rather bare room.

Penny gave him a hard stare, gauging his reaction. "The Loathly Ones."

***

Martha disliked the clanking sound of the stairs as she made her way down into Strangefellows. Once at the bottom she refused to look at her feet. If she did, then she might see whatever was making her stick to the floor. That left only one place to look; the denizens of the pub. If it could be called a pub. Captain Jack smiled and nodded to the man behind the bar who scowled at him in return. Martha knew she should pay more attention to him but he was the least interesting looking person in the place; a dour man all in black. Even the leather clad transvestite dancing on a table seemed rather tame compared the Things lurking in the shadows and he was wearing gadgets Martha would have sworn only UNIT had access to.

Something that looked like a reanimated corpse picked its arm up off the floor and shuffled away from Captain Jack. Unfortunately, he bumped into two vampires arguing about which one was the real Dracula. The resulting fight ended when the man behind the bar whistled. Martha had to blink. Female bodybuilders were not the kind of bouncers she had expected given the clientele. She wouldn't have been surprised if the furniture came to life on command and ate people.

After a frozen moment Martha hurried to catch up with Jack. She smiled. She had to see this.

Jack bellied up to the bar and shone a charming smile on the bartender. "I'll have a glass of whatever is most expensive and something that won't kill my friends." He ignored the bartender's grunt and suspicious squint. "Been a long time, Alex."

"Not long enough, Harkness. I really should throw you out." Alex grabbed a bottle and poured Jack a drink from a brightly colored bottle.

"That's why I always make sure to keep my bar tab paid." Jack pulled out money and didn't even flinch when Alex seriously short changed him. He abruptly grabbed Mickey's arm. "Don't even think about touching the bar snacks. I need you able to do something more than worship the porcelain god."

"You always say such nice things." Alex said sarcastically as he returned to cleaning his glasses.

Martha looked around and realized that Gwen had struck a conversation with someone completely covered in bandages and Heath was cowering at a nearby table trying not to be noticed. Since he had nearly thrown himself out of a moving vehicle to avoid coming she had thought he would stick closer to Jack. "How did you end up working at a place like this?" Martha asked before thinking.

"Family business." Alex turned to glare at Jack. "Tour groups now, is it?"

"No. I was wondering if you'd know anything about where Shotgun Suzie's been lately." Jack said.

"Heard she was on a job for a Transcendent Being." Alex said with ill grace.

"Do you know anyone who might know how to find her?" Jack swirled the drink in his glass but didn't touch it.

Martha cautiously sniffed her own and decided she didn't want to risk it.

"John Taylor might know but who knows where he is?" Alex shrugged.

"Taylor's back? I thought he left." Jack looked genuinely interested. "I also heard he and Suzie left on bad terms."

"That's old news." Alex sniffed and left to pour another O positive Bloody Mary.

"That was productive." Jack muttered.

"Who's John Taylor?" Mickey asked.

"Private Investigator with a Gift." Jack wound up, getting ready for Tale Telling mode. "He's supposed to be the son of someone big only no one knows who. His mother erased herself from the records. I'd rather not face him down if I don't have to. Not with you around. If he and Suzie are doing business together again this could get very ugly very fast."

When she thought back over it later Martha still had no idea where the girl came from. One moment it was Mickey, Jack and herself at the bar and the next there was a scowling teenaged girl standing in front of them. "I'm Mad," the girl announced.

"Hello, I'm Captain Jack Harkness." Jack said without missing a beat.

"Father Time wants to see you." The girl continued to scowl, unaffected.

"If this is about that continuum it was already dented." Jack said. When the girl still didn't warm to his charm Jack nodded. "The Time Tower, right?"

"Yes, now." The girl stalked towards the stairs and waited like a cat waiting to be let out.

"Don't worry, Alex. We'll be back before you know it." Jack sauntered away from the bar, Martha and Mickey in tow. Ignoring Alex's mutterings he approached Gwen with a smile. "We have an invitation to the Time Tower."

Martha thought Heath was going to be sick right there. "It's not even in Nightside. It's in Shadows Fall..." He drank his drink in one gulp which made Martha reevaluate his bravery. He looked at the teenaged girl and froze. "Oh, yeah. I guess we are." He smiled at Jack. "Don't worry. This will hurt you far more than it will hurt me."


End file.
